Lock and Key
by AngelinaWeasley1
Summary: The Trio's seventh year! Harry not only has to worry about his final battle with Voldemort, but he has plenty of other things on his mind as well. How will he handle all of this plus unexpected feelings for someone?
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter franchise...

A/N: This is a fic that I am actually taking pretty seriously. It's not a parody, shock and amaze (lol), and I have intentions of finishing it, unlike the Fifth Summer. (The Fifth Summer would have been good if I had not been lazy and had actually gotten around to posting once in awhile. Instead, I waited around and eventually the fifth book came out. ::Sighs:: It's a terribly long and confusing story. Anyway!) I hope you enjoy it and I hope it's worthwhile! I've always wanted to do a Harry/Hermione fic, but have just now gotten the balls to do it. Enjoy.

**Lock and Key**

He couldn't help but look at her. In the beginning he hadn't noticed that he gazed at her quite often, or if he had, he wrote it off as simply paying attention to his best friend... being attentive. But now things had changed, and he found immense pleasure in looking at her, studying her delicate, pretty face. But the truth was, his looking was borderline staring. And Harry definitely had to be careful to not be caught staring, least of all by Hermione. Moody's reminder bounded through his head: constant vigilance.

"...unbelievable!" the red-head vehemently finished.

"W-what?" Harry asked, snapping out of his daze. Ron looked at him dubiously.

"I just said I can't _believe _that wanker's made Head Boy. You should have seen him on train, in the meeting. _Disgusting_." he replied angrily, referring to Draco Malfoy, who sat contently at the Slytherin table.

"I know." Harry added, shooting daggers in Malfoy's direction. It was the Welcoming Feast of their seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had given his expected speech 10 minutes ago, introduced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (Sarai Higgins), and now everyone was eating.

Many things had happened since Harry's fifth year, or the end of it. The wizarding world, aware that Voldemort _was _back, had put itself on an extremely high state of alarm. Cornelius Fudge was still the Minister of Magic, though under different conditions. The Wizengamot kept an excessively close watch on him while appointing Amelia Bones the position of _Vice_ Minister of Magic. As for the Dark Lord himself, Harry's escapade at the end of his fifth year had deterred Voldemort's plans tremendously. His power was not progressing as he had hoped now that everyone was alert. His Death Eaters whom had been in Azkaban had been released the summer Harry turned 16, and had not really resurfaced since. (The dementors did indeed leave their posts at the prison). It was rumored that they were under the Fidelius Charm with Voldemort himself as the Secret Keeper. Attacks still occurred but there weren't nearly as many as there had been in his previous days; he had to be careful, after all. The Order of the Phoenix continued to thrive, with the loss of two and addition of three. Remus Lupin had taken up residency in Grimmauld Place, though it belonged to the Order. Naturally, Dumbledore held no objections.

As for Harry, pretty much everything up to this point, returning to Hogwarts for the final time, had been hell. The first summer had been a disaster. Forced to stay with the Dursleys the entire summer for precaution, Harry had nothing to dwell on but Sirius' death. Probably even if given the opportunity to leave Privet Drive, he wouldn't have done so. He had kept entirely to himself, letting his entourage know he was fine only when they began to worry. By the time the start of the sixth year had rolled around, Harry had decided he wasn't going to beat himself up over his godfather—he was going to try to make his death not have gone in vain. He committed himself heavily to the fight against Voldemort in his own way. He did the work in all of his classes, did it _well_, in order to reach his goal of becoming an Auror. Even Snape, whom had been furious to discover Harry had somehow managed to squirm his way into N.E.W.T potions, noticed the vicious change in him. Harry did, however, manage to build a brick wall between him and everyone else. Because of this every relationship he had suffered, especially the one between himself, Ron, & Hermione.

As far as romance went, Cho Chang had tried to approach him once again and Harry had quickly dismissed her, ending that or any other hopefuls. It had taken Ron and Hermione the entire sixth year to get back into Harry's life, for him to let his guard down. There had been much arguing, yelling, convincing, pleading (Hermione), and crying (Hermione). This summer, Harry spent a week at the Dursley's before heading off to Grimmauld Place. He felt be could now handle going there, and besides, he wanted to give Lupin company. The Weasleys and Hermione were there as well. Now, as things stood, school had started again and Harry was slowly returning to himself.

"How is Hermione going to work with that little snot? How am _I_ going to stand being under him?!" Ron gruffly questioned. Hermione had been named Head Girl to Malfoy's Head Boy and Ron was still a prefect, along with Lavender Brown.

"Dunno..." Harry replied, feeling his stomach clench at the mention of Hermione. Speaking of which, she came bounding up to her two best friends a moment later.

"Sorry," she breathlessly apologized, sitting across from them and next to Ginny Weaslsey, "But a first year got lost and I had to help him."  
"Fascinating." Ron commented, helping himself to his fourth roll. She frowned. Harry quickly glanced at her before returning to his plate. She hadn't really changed much, besides getting older and better looking. Her brown hair wasn't so much bushy as it was wavy anymore, but she still had a dazzling smile. She came in about 5'6", whereas Ron was a staggering 6'3" and showed no signs of stopping. Harry was six feet even (a feat he would have thought impossible when he was 11 & quite small), still wore glasses, and still had the infamous disheveled Potter hair.

"You okay Harry?" Hermione suddenly questioned. He looked at her, now with a reason to, and wondered what had prompted her to ask that question. He pushed it aside, simply glad she had focused her attention on him.

"Yeah," he retorted.

"Good," she smiled then turned to join Ginny in conversation. (Ron was speaking with Seamus Finnigan about something). Harry thought back to when exactly he had begun to have feelings for Hermione. Well, he had certainly realized it during last Christmas. He and Hermione had spent their sixth year winter vacation at the Burrow with the entire Weasley family, excluding Percy. He had noticed how truly pretty she was how, how nice of a smile she had, how compassionate she was, how cute she was when she was angry, and how all of it affected his stomach. Of course, an unpleasant event had also taken place that break. Ron had confessed to Harry his own feelings for their female counterpart. It had been a blow in the chest for Harry but Ron had never mentioned it after that, so Harry had his hopes. What was more, could he really be mad at Ron for what he felt? He himself was coming to terms with being ensnared by Hermione, and Ron had liked her longer.

Neville Longbottom then brought Harry out of his thoughts, wanting to talk to him. When the feast was over, everyone rose to head to their respective dorms.

"Ugh. I have to find the flying ferret so we can help the new students." Hermione told Ron and Harry, shuddering.

"Well what's Gryffindor's password? So I can let everyone in?" Ron asked her.

"_Desdefuniron_, Weasley." Minerva McGonagall answered, walking up to them. Lavender came over as well. (Parvati Patil was walking away with one their roommates).

"Weasley, you and Ms. Brown take the Gryffindor first year students up to the tower. I need Ms. Granger. They're waiting for you, "She turned to leave with Hermione before adding, "Ah yes, you too Potter." Harry was alarmed by this but followed nonetheless, leaving a surprised Ron behind.

"Come _on_, Ron." Lavender commanded, roughly grabbing his arm.

"We need to gather Malfoy then head to the High Table." McGonagall informed them. Hermione looked at Harry and they both grimaced. At the Slytherin table a crowd had formed around Malfoy.

"...being Head Boy would be a challenge to most, but I know _I _can handle it. Dumbledore was right for picking a Slytherin to be in charge." they heard him brag. McGonagall frowned heavily then said:  
"All right, break it up! Head to the dungeons! Ms. Parkinson, Mr. Khan, lead the way for the first years. Mr. Malfoy should have already given you your password," The group dispersed, muttering amongst itself, "Come with me Malfoy." She led the way, with the other three at her heels. Harry could hear the Slytherins behind him and knew he was the subject. He gritted his teeth. Malfoy smirked slyly and cruelly at the both of them. When they reached the High Table, McGonagall told the Heads to go see Dumbledore.

"No need to follow them Potter," she said. He looked at her, puzzled, "I just wanted to tell you that you are the Gryffindor Quidditch captain."

"I... wha—I'm... I'm captain?!" Harry inquired, utterly perplexed.

"Yes. Congratulations. You deserve it, you know. On the team since first year, most all of the Cup acquisitions because of you... yes, it's about time."

"Uh, thanks Professor!" he stammered, feeling a dumb smile playing on his lips.

"Not a problem Potter. Just be sure to square away that Cup again—six years in a row!" McGonagall looked at him, smiled, then murmured proudly:

"He was captain as well... yes, so much like your father." She waved her hand impatiently then quickly strode off.

Wow, he was captain. As he made his way out of the Great Hall, a grin spread across his face. Captain. He then remembered to stop and wait for Hermione. He passed the wait by thinking of tactics, moves, and plays for the team—_his _team—to try.

"Hi Harry!" came Hermione's voice. The image of Ron punching Malfoy in the face, which wasn't exactly legal, stopped.

"Hey," he greeted.

"You waited for me?"

"Of course!"

"How sweet!" They began walking to the tower. Harry looked back to make sure Malfoy wasn't anywhere near them.

"So what'd Dumbledore want?" he questioned.

"Oh, to tell us more about our expectations and duties, like rounds and such. And to tell us about the Head Room." she retorted.

"The Head Room?"

"Yeah, it's our own common room. Chairs, sofas, desks... it even has its own small library. There are two bathrooms in it as well, one for me and one for him." Hermione explained.

"No beds?" Harry asked.

"No."

"Gonna be all right working with Malfoy?" She made a face.

"I'm going to have to try," she grimly said, "Anyway, what did Professor McGonagall want with you?"

"She told me I'm Quidditch captain." he smiled.

"Oh Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, stopping to hug him. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself discreetly smelling her hair. It reminded him of fruit. Her perfume also came to his attention. It smelled like warm cinnamon. He wouldn't have minded at all if Hermione decided not to let go. In fact, he didn't want her to. But she inevitably did.

"Yeah, I'm pretty excited." Harry commented, smiling again. A little later, they arrived at the Fat Lady. Hermione gave the password and they walked in the common room. Some students were milling about.

"I'll see you in the morning Harry." Hermione told him, heading to the girls' dormitories.

"Good night Hermione." he answered, watching her walk up the staircase. When she was out of sight, he started to his own room. A second year near the fireplace, whom had been gazing at him, gave a small squeak and diverted his eyes when he saw Harry pass by. He rolled his eyes in good humor and continued on his way.

A/N: First chapter done! I had Draco and Hermione living in their old dorms, instead of their own rooms, because I don't like that idea of Heads having their own rooms.


	2. New Experiences

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine... blah blah blah...

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 2

"So Dean and I are the only ones, then?" Seamus questioned while putting on a white T-shirt.

"Trying to rub it in?" Ron snapped, pulling on his robes.

"I'm not going out with her! We're only talking right now." Dean Thomas insisted. They were on the subject of girlfriends. Seamus was dating Lavender, as of the previous summer. (They had kept in contact through Owl Post). Dean had his eye on a pretty girl from Hufflepuff named Bethany King. The other three currently had no one.

"But remember Seamus, you've got Ron's sloppy seconds." Harry advised, tying his shoe.

"Oi—watch it Potter!" Seamus cried, throwing his socks at Harry. The others laughed heartily and Ron grinned smugly. During their sixth year, Lavender and Ron had gone out for eight weeks. When their relationship ended, mutually and friendly enough, Parvati Patil had _hounded _Ron. She got on his back, having no problem verbally abusing him in public (and loudly). She seemed to take more offense to the break-up than her best friend did. The embarrassment lasted Ron a month, and whenever someone mentioned Parvati, he got a particularly sour taste in his mouth.

"Jealously mate, is all." Dean assured Seamus, winking at Harry. Last night, his roommates had been thrilled at the news he'd been made Quidditch captain; Ron had been ecstatic.

"He has no need to be jealous, from what I hear," replied Seamus.

"What do you mean?" Neville and Ron asked in unison.

"Someone may like Mr. Potter."

"Who?" Ron demanded.

"Parvati." Harry glanced suspiciously at Seamus, who smiled.

"I'll say it again—those Patil twins are extremely good looking," nodded Dean.

"And you _did_ go to the Yule Ball with her, Harry. Parvati's nice." Neville pointed out.

"Yeah, up until the point you want out. Then she's a fire breathing monster." Ron cryptically said. They all broke out in laughter.

* * *

"I'm gonna do it mate." Ron announced to Harry as they walked into the Great Hall.

"Do what?" Harry wondered.

"Tell Hermione how I feel. I mean, it's our last year and all.... It'll be difficult, I know." Harry didn't reply. He felt as though someone had hit him in the stomach. He truly did not want to hear about Ron and Hermione, or visualize it. They sat down at the table across from Hermione & Neville and greeted her. As Harry poured his glass of juice, someone spoke to him.

"Hi Harry." Parvati cheerily said, grinning at him. She sat on his right, separated by a half asleep third year. Lavender and Seamus were next to her.

"Hi, Parvati," he responded, setting down the pitcher.

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"I heard you're captain."

"Yep."

"That's great," she noted, smiling again. He noticed she had a pretty smile, "Did you have a good summer?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"That's good. I did. I went to the Philippines."

"That's pretty... wicked."

"It really was. And gorgeous." Parvati smiled one last time and returned to her own affairs. Harry looked questioningly at Ron, who shrugged but gave a knowing chuckle. He then looked up and saw Hermione's head quickly turn to her right, rapid words (meant for Neville) pouring out of her mouth.

Harry studied her for a moment. Had she just been watching his conversation? Or was he imagining things? And was she beginning to turn red? The schedules then made their way down to their part of the table. They all grabbed their own eagerly. Harry studied his seriously. Four classes, all in favor of making his Auror goal come true: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, all of which were double. Perfect.

"What'd you get Harry?" wondered Ron, looking over, "Only two classes together... Defense and Transfiguration."

"How'd you get Divination?" Harry asked his best friend.

"WHAT?!" bellowed Ron, apparently having missed that.

"Unfortunately Ron, you've done well in that class and it appears you've forgotten that. Remember how many O.W.L.s you got?" Hermione explained, noting her own classes. (Charms, Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration).

"But... I could have sworn I did horribly in that class! And I don't _want_ it as a N.E.W.T class!" Ron insisted desperately.

"It's fair. You've got Trelawney, I'm stuck with Snape." Harry flatly noted.

Before breakfast ended, Harry rounded up the—his—Quidditch team to tell them he was now captain.

"That's terrific Harry!" Ginny, a Chaser, beamed.

"Brilliant!" Colin Creevy added, Beater one.

"Thanks. I wanted to meet on the field at the beginning of lunch so... that's what's going to happen. Bring your brooms." Harry announced.

"And don't be late, BURNSTONE." Ron (still the Keeper) menacingly said. Matthew Burnstone was Beater number two, a sixth year, and had been said to fancy Ginny. He blushed. The seven departed and Harry & Ron walked to Transfiguration together, where Hermione already was.

* * *

Harry hurried down the staircase, Firebolt in tow. Defense Against the Dark Arts had ended some 10 minutes earlier and now Harry was rushing to get to the pitch.  
"Dumb second years and their dumb accident in the corridor," he growled. He then spotted Hermione on a sofa, preparing to open a book, "Hermione! Have you seen Ron?" She looked up at him, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"He already left. Said he wanted to fly before you got there," she reported.

"Right... so the prat left me," Harry said, sighing, "Would you mind walking with me? You don't have to. You don't have to stay for the meeting either, I just—"

"Of course," smiled Hermione, standing up. They walked to the portrait and out of the common room. They talked about how their classes went for a while before silence engulfed them. _Why'd you ask her to walk with you if you're not going to speak to her?!_ Harry scolded himself. So I could look at her, he offered up, stealing a glance.

"Um... if you wanted to see the Head Room, I could show you. Tonight." Hermione told him.

"Do you have rounds tonight?" he inquired.

"Yes, but they're at ten. There's plenty of time before that. Is nine okay?"

"All right." Harry shrugged. He wanted to know more about the details of the rounds in general, but a moment later they were at the Entrance Hall.

"Right. So, I'll see you at lunch, maybe. If not, in, er, Charms," he commented, awkwardly.

"Yeah." Hermione simply stated, catching his eye.

"See you." Harry trudged down the steps and onto the grass. She stood there for a minute, watching his progress. God, he was adorable when he was unsure of things. Hermione's eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth as though she had spoken instead of thought. Dear Merlin, what was she thinking? Had she not been aware of what precisely had crossed her mind, and about whom?

"Get a grip," she mouthed.

"Uh... Hermione?" came a voice. She turned sharply to her right. A tall boy with fair hair and misty light blue eyes stood next to her. She was aware she knew vaguely of him but couldn't place his face to a name at the moment.

"H-hello," she greeted.

"I'm not sure if you exactly know me, but I'm David Rice," he proclaimed, holding out a hand. She shook it, comprehension dawning.

"From Ravenclaw, right?" Hermione pondered.

"Yeah," smiled David.

"Seeker on the Quidditch team?"

"Right again. My, you _are _a genius." They both grinned lightly.

"I know I may seem mad or something, but I was going into the Great Hall and I saw you standing here by yourself. So I thought I might introduce myself and give you some company." David noted.

"How thoughtful."

"And it might be a good way to get on the Head Girl's good side." He mischievously half smiled. His eyes then traveled to the field.

"So... were you going to eat lunch?" wondered Hermione, noticing she hadn't been planning to.

"Yes."

"Care if I join you?"

"Not one bit." David replied.

* * *

Harry stormed out of the common room, barely noticing an entering group of fourth year girls. They giggled as he passed. It was ten minutes to nine. He was headed towards the portrait of the fruit. Harry hadn't seen Ron since dinner ended, so suspected he was already with Hermione. Harry was in a foul mood; he had been ever since Potions. (Ron as well had a towering temper, naturally from Divination. Harry had been glad to have someone with whom he could be irate). Things had gone all right during class until Snape asked them to turn in the 12 feet essays they had written over the summer. Harry and Malfoy had arrived at the desk about the same time, papers in hand. Malfoy then knocked over a flask of a dark blue potion, most of it consuming Harry's essay. Malfoy smirked broadly when he saw it dissolved Harry's work, and claimed it was an accident. Snape did nothing to hide his conspicuous smile, telling Harry he'd have to write it over and turn it in next class session. Harry was beyond infuriated, seriously deliberating whether or not to severely jinx Malfoy right then and there. However, Snape commanded them back to their seats. So, as of now, he was still seething. Having told Ron and Hermione about it had only made him angrier.

"Harry?" someone questioned. He snapped out of his stupor. He had apparently made a lot of progress because he was now on the first floor, facing Parvati.

"Oh. Hey... Parvati," he mumbled.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay after Potions today," (She shared the class with him), "It was really low what Snape and Malfoy did."

"Tell me about it," he growled.

"Well if you need help on it, I'll be happy to help," she offered.

"A-all right. Thanks." He noticed how considerate and generous that had been.

"Anytime. Later." Parvati smiled and kept walking. Feeling a good deal better, he continued his journey. When he got to the painting, Hermione was already wating.

"Hi Harry," she smiled.

"Hey. Where's Ron?" he responded.

"Ron?"

"Yeah, he's coming right?"

"Oh. Uh... well, er, not—"stuttered Hermione, looking uncomfortable.

"You didn't invite him along?" Harry asked.

"No." She had turned slightly red.

"Oh," Well, fine—no Ron. Harry got time alone with Hermione, right?, "Let's go then." She looked relieved.

"It's on the same floor as the prefect's bathroom," Hermione announced, "So... are you still upset about—"

"I was, but not as much. Parvati was the one who sort of made me feel better," answered Harry.

"Parvati?"

"Yeah. She said she'd help me rewrite it."

"Oh," she sharply stated, looking straight ahead. Harry felt a sudden need to explain himself.

"B-but I didn't accept or anything. She just said she'd be there for me," he blurted out. Hermione shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

"That's nice... if not a bit odd. I usually help you with your work. But Parvati is just as capable, I guess. She _is _in your Potions class," she noted.

"Maybe I'll give you a rest, you know? You must be sick of Ron and me begging for help." Harry bleakly smiled. _Not you_, she thought. Nothing more was said until they reached the Head Room.

"I'm warning you now Hermione, if Malfoy's in there, I may actually kill him. I don't care how many points you take from Gryffindor." Harry said, before she gave the password.

"Oh Harry!" she exasperatedly sighed, though there was something else in her voice he couldn't place. Hermione uttered the password and in they walked. (Malfoy was not present). The room was splendid and rather round in shape. There was a second floor, which was solely lined with an enormous bookshelf full of books. The first floor, the one on which they currently stood, had a slight incline, which contained the sitting area. A long, mahogany coffee table was surrounded by two sofas and two squashy chairs (rather like beanbags), one purple and one black. Above the sitting grove was a chandelier and two fireplaces on opposite ends of the room. High backed chairs, black and purple, sat near them.

"The bathrooms are near the fireplaces and there's a study room upstairs," Hermione commented, "My bathroom's over there." She pointed to the one on their right. Harry nodded, remembering the portrait that admitted them had been the Hogwarts crest.

"Oh yeah, and there's a place to play chess over there, board, pieces, and all," she remarked, pointing to the other said of the room (directly across from where they were).

Hermione sat down on a sofa as Harry made out the two chairs and small table. He looked at her. She had her eyes shut and head thrown back. He took the advantage to look—all right, _stare_—at her. Her brown hair hung onto the sofa (and went past it), her right arm was cradled in her lap, and her neck was bare. God, she looked so... so.... Perfect? Irresistible? Stunning? Yes. Harry's eyes then moved to her lips. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss them. More importantly, he wanted to find out. To his horror, his foot moved out in front of him. What was he doing?! Harry forced himself to stop moving and then thought: _Okay, it's time for you to leave, Harry ol' boy. You've proven you can't be alone with her anymore. Your hormones have done enough for one night_. He moved back a few paces and announced:

"Er, I'm leaving Hermione." Her eyes immediately shot open and her head snapped up. She looked in front of her, expecting to see Harry on the other couch. She turned when he wasn't.

"What? Why?," questioned Hermione, "It's only ten after nine!"

"I know. I j-just wanted to go start my Potions essay," And then he added, "May I can still catch up with Parvati." Hermione's eyes seemed to flash for a second.

"Oh," she airily said, crossing her arms, "Well if you want to go spend time with her, go right ahead. I'm sorry I took up your time."

"No, you didn't!," he retorted, knowing he had offended her to some extent, "I don't want... I just thought—"

"I understand Harry, it's all right. It _is _12 feet, after all. Goodnight then." Hermione said, now looking dead ahead. Harry stayed where he was for a moment, feeling lost and confused. When she continued to remain silent, he left, noting something terribly odd had just occurred.

A/N: Well, that was chapter 2! How is it so far? I'll post again soon, probably on Wednesday. R/R!


	3. Tea With the Dumb Lord

Disclaimer: I didn't own HP two seconds ago and I don't own it now!...

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 3

Hermione arrived at breakfast the next morning before any of the others. She still had last night on her mind, which was bothering her. She had totally lost her cool and composure with Harry, and allegedly for no real reason. She had simply been upset about his leaving so soon, and that Parvati comment had sent her over the edge. Hermione realized, with disgust, she had acted as Cho had two years ago. Knowing that, she resolved to act her age. Rounds with Draco Malfoy was another story... a trying, painful story. He had insulted, smirked, and belittled her for three hours while she had yelled, argued, and snapped at him. Being Head Girl was going to be hell, if only by putting up with the Head Boy.

As Hermione helped herself to her second piece of toast, her friends walked into the Great Hall. Her eyes immediately went to Harry and her stomach churned.

"Pass the sausage Hermione," was the first thing out of Ron's mouth as he seated himself. She glared at him.

"Good morning to you too!" she crossly reported, forcefully sliding the plate down to him. Harry looked at her momentarily, apprehensively, then dropped his gaze. He dully noted she was still in a bad mood. For the first few minutes there was nothing but silence, seeing as how Ron was stuffing his face, Harry thought Hermione was still angry with him, and Hermione was hesitating. She knew she had to apologize to Harry but she was having difficulty finding words. As Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley came to speak to Harry and Ron about something, she finally resolved on something. As the Hufflepuffs left, Hermione saw Parvati and Padma Patil enter; to her, it was a sign to speak up.

"Harry?" she started. He looked at her, relief and trepidation expressed on his face.

"I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to go off on you. I was tired. I'm not upset, just sorry," she stated. _Well thank God, _he thought, _because you bloody sure had me confused!_

"Last night?," wondered Ron, frowning slightly, "What happened last night? Where was I?"

"In the common room?" Hermione dryly suggested. He glowered at her.

"Hermione just showed me the Head Room, is all." Harry said, coming to the rescue.

"Well how come no one told me about it? _I _would have wanted to come." Ron sulked.

"Honestly Ron! You'll see it tonight, when you come to the prefect's meeting! We're discussing rounds, by the way," she told him, rolling her eyes. He said nothing and didn't appear very consoled in knowing he would view it that night. A minute later, Ron muttered something that sounded vaguely like 'principle of the matter' and uttered nothing more. When they finished breakfast they got up and headed to McGonagall's together.

Three quarters of the way there, after Hermione told off a fifth year couple for their PDA, they ran into Malfoy and his usual retinue.

"You'll probably be doing rounds tonight with Ron, you know, with Lavender. Wednesday is set for the Gryffindors," explained Hermione. But she quieted as soon as she saw the blonde Slytherin. He leered happily at the three.

"How's it going?," he asked them casually, "Start that essay yet Potty?" His friends snickered loudly. Harry, being reminded of the incident by the perpetrator himself, cracked. He gave Malfoy the finger. Hermione gave a small gasp while the Slytherins appeared outraged. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, though he seemed to remain maliciously content. With his arms folded, he said:

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter. You offend the Head Boy again and I'll dock 100 points." Hermione had put her hand on Harry's arm without realizing it. Malfoy's eyes went to hers, daring her to contradict him. However, she only cared about keeping her best friend in line. Harry had his fists clenched tightly.

"You can't do that!" Ron argued, mad about the loss of points but proud of Harry's gesture.

"Of course I can, Weasel Man," sneered Malfoy, "_I _am Head Boy. You are a lowly prefect, and an abysmal one at that." His group laughed once more.

"Yeah?," remarked Ron, ears going red, "How's your dad? Still hiding out with what's his face? Did you visit him this weekend at the Dumb Lord's little flat? Drink some tea?" It was dead silent; no one could believe his or her ears. Hermione stared at Ron with fascination and horror while Harry looked on with pure admiration. Malfoy, on the other hand, was pissed off and humiliated. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at Ron's chest, fuming visibly. Hermione cried out.

"Don't you _ever _speak of that again, do you understand me?!" he snarled.

"Drop it." Harry flatly commanded, his wand pointed at Malfoy's face. The Slytherin glared hatefully at Harry while Ron groped for his own wand. Crabbe and Goyle moved to stop him (refusing to let Malfoy be outnumbered), but stopped at the sound of Hermione's voice.

"That is ENOUGH! _Everyone _just stop! Lower your wands!" she yelled. Pansy Parkinson then scoffed.

"Oh, why don't you—"she began.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Hermione snapped, cutting her off, "Shut up." Pansy appeared scandalized.

"Ron, Harry—don't do anything rash and _lower your wands_," she advised. When they didn't move, she repeated much more firmly, "Harry, _Ron_—now." They dropped their wands in a painfully slow fashion.

"Malfoy," she coldly stated.

"If you think I'm going to let you—"he heatedly began.

"And if _you _think you'll actually keep your badge by doing something this stupid, you have completely lost your mind," she loudly interrupted. She stared unbelievingly at her.

"Must I go to Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. Malfoy swore and then stormed off, his small band following him.

"You'll pay." Blaise Zabini quietly growled as he left. Ron and Hermione both looked at each other in turn.

"Nice Hermione!," he exclaimed, "I guess you're Head Girl for a reason!"

"Ron, did you _have _to say that about his father?!" she half shouted, ignoring his comment.

"Yes," the boys replied in unison. Hermione glanced at Harry and saw the fierce determination in his green eyes. Her stomach rolled over.

"Does Malfoy have to be such an idiotic prat?" Ron questioned. She sighed heavily and they continued on their way.

"I can't believe there was almost... a _rumble _in the hallway, involving the Head Boy," she mumbled.

"Woulda been worth it; I got under ferret boy's skin," grinned Ron to Harry.

* * *

"...and she actually smiled at me, which threw me off 'cause I could have sworn she still thought I was the biggest twit in the world, due to that whole Yule Ball thing." Ron explained to Harry as they walked down the corridor. He was speaking of an earlier incident with Padma Patil and they were headed to eat dinner. Harry merely nodded.

"So, when's our first practice?" questioned Ron, changing the subject and catching his best friend's attention.

"I dunno yet. I've been thinking about it and I came up with next week, say Wednesday. I want to get us started quite early so we'll be that much better." Harry answered.

"Right. Think we could use Burnstone as the Quaffle?" Harry laughed and a moment later, they rounded the corner to see Hermione chatting with David Rice. Both boys stopped. They couldn't make out the precise words but they could definitely see the smiles on their faces, and could absolutely hear Hermione's laughter.

"Who in bloody Merlin's name is that?!" Ron demanded, pointing wildly. Harry's eyes had narrowed darkly.

"David Rice; Ravenclaw's Seeker," he grumbled, jealously beginning to consume him.

"Well why is talking to Hermione?! It can't _possibly _be about Quidditch!" They watched for a tad longer and then David walked off in another direction, waving to her before they left. Harry and Ron (well, more so Ron) then rapidly walked over to their friend.

"Chatting it up with Rice, huh?" Ron said as though he had known who it was all along.

"Oh, hi Harry, Ron," she remarked, startled, "What? Oh, yes—I was talking to David."

"Why?"

"Because I was being nice," she said, frowning.

"How long have you two been chummy?" Ron continued. Hermione scoffed.

"Not very. And we're not _chummy_!"

"Really? Because the way you were smiling—"

"You know what Ron? This conversation is over!" she told him, turning away and storming into the Great Hall. He waited a minute before muttering, "Yeah, well..." and following her steps. Harry slowly followed, now feeling somewhat shameful for feeling jealous. True, he hadn't (stupidly) gone off as Ron had, but still. He knew Hermione could speak to whomever she wanted freely, but she and David _had _looked rather chummy....

Harry sat next to Ron and went through a huffy meal. His friends were not speaking to one another so she took refuge in Neville. Instead, they decided to throw around silverware, dishes, and grumble loudly. When dinner was over, Hermione abruptly stood up and snapped at Ron to remember the meeting. She then walked off in a fluster. Ron walked back with Harry to Gryffindor Tower, venting about Hermione the entire way. Harry walked into their dorm with him, but only to retrieve his work; he felt no need to be in Ron's company.

"Where're you going?" he wondered.

"To do homework." Harry bluntly replied, leaving. He took a table by a window in the common room, sighing. He felt confused about things at the moment—Hermione, Ron, his feelings—but didn't know why. Harry took out some parchment and a quill, deciding to write to Lupin.

Ever since Sirius's death, he felt much closer to the man, though he didn't have to guess why: the absence of Sirius had hit them both hard. When Harry had finished the letter, which spoke of his becoming Quidditch captain and was rather lengthy, he began on his Charms homework. (He paid no attention to the other people in the common room with him). Halfway through it, and still about 60 minutes more worth, he sensed someone approach. Harry looked up to see Parvati.

"Hi Harry!" she warmly greeted. At that same moment he saw Ron walk by. They caught each other's eye and Ron questioningly raised his eyebrows. Was it time for the prefect meeting already? How long had he been down here?

"Uh, hi Parvati." Harry responded. (Ron was gone).

"I saw you sitting here alone and thought I'd stop by. Lavender left for her meeting, you know," she remarked.

"Yeah, Ron too." Parvati's mouth twitched and Harry had a sudden impulse to ask her something.

"Parvati, why do you still hate Ron?" he pondered, sounding slightly amused.

"Oh, I don't hate him!," she cried, falling into a chair, "It's just... I can't help but think about last year."

"But... that was quite a while ago, and they're both completely over it. Lavender's going out with Seamus! Besides, it's not like _you _went out with him." Harry explained.

"I know, I know! I'm wrong and it's in the past. I'll try harder with Ron," admitted Parvati. He smiled in return, "Hey, are you doing homework?"

"Yeah, Charms," Something he learned from Cho Chang then popped into his head, "D'you wanna do it with me? If you haven't already? I mean, we're in the same class and all..."

"Of course!" she grinned. She then took out her wand and closed her eyes for a moment.

"_Accio _Charms work!" she commanded. Moments later, her necessities landed roughly on the table.

"Nice," admired Harry.

"Yeah, all thanks to the DA." He felt a stab of guilt and remorse. The DA hadn't happened sixth year; Harry had spent too much time being pissed off at the world and hating everything. But it was a new year he felt considerately better. Who knew? Perhaps the DA would make a comeback. Voldemort _was _still out there....

* * *

According to Ron's reports, the meeting was unbearable. Hermione and Draco Malfoy were both still angry with him so he had to suffer their wrath. As it turned out, the Head Boy and Girl patrolled Monday nights & Fridays, after the Ravenclaws. Slytherin had Tuesday, Gryffindor had Wednesday, Hufflepuff had Thursday, and Ravenclaw (obviously) had Friday. (The Heads had the longest rounds, by far). Malfoy, forever the damned twit, so said Ron, refused to cooperate with Hermione while she tried desperately not to argue with him in public. Things worsened when Malfoy let 'Mudblood' slip. Ron and two others immediately jumped up, starting a hooplah. The night basically ended with everyone storming out of the Head Room and Hermione near tears. Hearing this, Harry was terribly relieved not to have a prefect badge, though, the thought of Hermione crying for any reason made him ache.  
  
A/N: I posted like I said I would. I don't know, but seriously doubt, the Heads can take points from the Houses, but I don't care. They can and will in _this _story! Lol. Next chapter up... Saturday. Or Friday if I'm not feeling lazy. Til then! 


	4. Old Antics

Disclaimer: You know the deal...

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 4

About four weeks had passed in time, with all of it going by in a mad dash. The professors showed no mercy whatsoever to the seventh years when it came to work, and if that wasn't enough to keep them busy for weeks (which it definitely _was_), extra activities were added on top of that. Hermione had the austere job of Head Girl and Harry had his Quidditch team to fret over. The Gryffindor team had been faithfully practicing four days a week. Harry, who thought his team might think it a bit much, explained that no team could get enough practice. He just wanted to ensure they won the Quidditch Cup six years in a row.

"Harry, it's fine, four days are fine!" Ginny had retorted, smiling.

"Yeah, besides, we haven't lost the Cup since you've been on the team!" Ron had added proudly.

On another matter pertaining to Quidditch, Hermione had kept up her budding friendship with David Rice much to Ron's horror. They had been seeing quite a lot of each other. Harry, however, could not dump on Hermione too badly, for he himself had been spending more time with Parvati Patil (which perturbed Hermione with each passing day). He was discovering that she was extremely cool and not nearly as airy as he had once thought her. Ron had asked Harry, smirking at the time, if he was going out with her. Harry, totally taken aback, answered no a tad more forcefully than he had intended. Ron nodded skeptically then told his best friend about one of Padma's friends, Rebecca Mesh, who had caught his eye. Harry had happily noted Ron hadn't mentioned Hermione and might be moving past her.

* * *

Harry and Ron walked out of the common room discussing, what else?, Quidditch. They were headed to the kitchens. True, dinner had been a little over an hour ago but they wanted to see Dobby... and what other desserts they could snag.

"It's weird," Harry started, "We've seen every other House practicing _but _Slytherin. We haven't caught one glimpse of them."

"I know! Do they even _have _a team this year?!," Ron replied. Harry gave a small smile, "Do you know who their captain is?"

"No idea."

"Well, it's not like it matters. They're still going to be awful," shrugged Ron. Harry laughed. The first game of the season was on Friday, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. They hadn't gotten too far before Ginny came up from behind.

"Hey Ron, Harry," she greeted, her bag on her shoulder.

"Hey Gin," responded Ron.

"Hi," said Harry.

"Where are you two off to?" she asked, her full red hair in a ponytail.

"Uh... the, er—" her brother stammered.

"Hagrid's." Harry told her. Ginny looked at them wryly, almost annoyingly.

"The kitchens." Ron answered, defeated.

"Ah," she observed.

"And you?" She didn't get to answer because at that moment Parvati came swooping down on them.

"Ron! We have to work on our Divination project!," she declared, stopping him, "We've hardly done a thing!"

"Now?!" he exclaimed, disgusted at the thought of Divination over food.

"Yes, now! You are helping me do it!" Parvati announced. He looked hopelessly at the other two then relented. Harry waved at Parvati before she departed with his disgruntled friend. She smiled in return.

"So...," Ginny began as they continued walking, "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"You know... is anything happening between you and Parvati?" she inquired with a sly smile. He silently growled. What was it with these Weasleys and the Parvati theory?!

"Nothing," he shortly replied.

"Are you sure?" Yes he was sure! All right, yes, she was quite attractive and had a nice personality, but he had no feelings for her!

"Yes. We're only friends Ginny." Harry reported.

"Oh. It's just... you spend a noticeable amount of time with her, and she's one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts..." Ginny told him.

"So?! I spend time with you, and with Hermione! And you're both pretty!" Well, that wasn't exactly true. _Hermione's beautiful_, he unexpectedly thought. Ginny's face flushed and she struggled with her bag.

"Sorry, I was just... curious," she mumbled, "Look Harry, I've got to get to the library. That's where I was going... before. See you!" Ginny hardly met his eyes and hurried off. He watched her go, perplexed. Had he offended her? Harry had no clue that he had pleased & embarrassed her by calling her pretty, or that Ginny was extremely upset with herself because she knew a part of her was still taken with Harry.

He stood there for a moment, not sure of where to go anymore. A pleasant thought then came to him—Hermione. He knew that she wasn't in the Tower, but wasn't sure where she was either. Harry thought he'd first try the Head Room then might have to resort to the Marauder's Map. When he reached the portrait, he realized he didn't know the password. (She said it all the time—he _had _to start paying attention)! Stuck, he simply knocked loudly, unsure if this plan would work. Disappointment and rage filled Harry when Draco Malfoy appeared on the other side.

"What the hell are you doing here Potter?" he demanded, alarm and anger washing over his own face.

"Is Hermione in there?" he gruffly asked.

"Ah, looking for your little girlfriend," Malfoy smirked, "It doesn't matter if she is or not. _You're _not a Head and _this _is the Head Room. Thus, you're not coming in. Now leave before Gryffindor loses 30 points." Harry balled his fists, wanting desperately to throw one at the blonde boy's face. Instead he shouted Hermione's name, shocking Malfoy. An instant later, she stood at the entrance.

"Harry! I thought someone was here..." she said. Noticing the looks the two boys were giving one another, Hermione stepped out and guided Harry away.

"Filth," they heard the Slytherin grumble, before having the portrait slam shut.

"How can you stay in there with him?" Harry wondered.

"I'm usually not; that was one of that rare occasions. Besides, I was upstairs," she informed. A smile then crept onto her face, "So what's up?"

"Just wanted company, I guess. Ron's working on a project for Divination and I've already finished the Quidditch tactics for Friday."

"What about your homework?" He cleared his throat and hastily looked away. She rolled her eyes, amused. Harry and Ron would never change.

"Don't think I'm falling behind or anything. I plan to spend most of tomorrow doing it. The last thing I need is Head Girl Hermione on my case—regular Hermione is bad enough." Harry explained, grinning.

"Watch it Potter." Hermione smiled. They were walking closely and his arm brushed against hers. An electric wave shot through his arm that pleased him.

"Where are we going?" she inquired.

"I dunno. How about... Hagrid's?" he answered, thinking about his earlier answer to Ginny's question. _Or an empty classroom where I can snog the lights out of you_, he thought. Harry angrily closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. _That_ was the arm talking. What was he thinking?! He didn't think like that!

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked, observing his face. He quickly got over himself, offering up a rather sloppy smile.

"Nothing," he remarked. She nodded, mentally noting how charming his smile was.

"All right, let's see Hagrid. You two can speak incessantly about Friday's game."

"You're coming right?"

"Of course!," Hermione assured, "Have I _ever _missed a game in which you were playing?"

"No." Harry quietly responded, grinning shamefully.

"Well there you go." As they walked out onto the grounds, Hermione voiced her hope of Ron remembering he had rounds later. (It wouldn't be his first time forgetting). Harry merely took in how soothing her voice was.

* * *

Harry and Ron walked down from their dormitory the next morning discussing their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"I mean, she's a good _professor_ but a terrible _conversationalist_. She hardly talks to us, unless it's about the course!" Ron adamantly insisted.

"What do you expect? A repeat of third year and Lupin? Ron, we don't befriend every professor." Harry replied.

"No, but it wouldn't hurt her to _smile_, just once."

"Well, I like Higgins." Ron was about to retort, "You would; she's as depressed as you were" but instantly realized how cruel and low that was. Furthermore, he was certain their friendship would have ended right then and there.

"Oh yeah—Hogsmeade trip next weekend," Ron pointed out, motioning to the bulletin board. The prefects knew about the trips one before they actually took place and the Heads knew about all of them, "Plan to ask anyone?" Harry snorted and said:

"No. You?"

"Yep! Rebecca Mesh. Back to you though... are you going to ask Parvati?" (They walked out of the common room). Harry shot Ron a lethal glare that was intended to shut him up: it did. No, he wasn't going to ask Parvati out! If anything Harry felt compelled to ask Hermione, but knew it would be painfully imprudent to do so. They walked into the Great Hall and sat down, beginning to eat.

"Morning." Hermione greeted.

"Morning Mione, love," said Ron, stuffing a whole piece of toast in his mouth. She looked at him blankly.

"Don't call me Mione," she flatly ordered. Harry laughed and Ron wiggled his eyebrows. The owl post came as Harry was speaking to Sarah Clayborn, a fifth year Chaser. An owl dropped the Daily Prophet in front of Hermione and another had a letter for Ron.

"Who's it from?" Harry asked.

"Percy," snorted Ron as Hermione flipped past the front page. Percy Weasley had decided to seek out his family's exoneration that summer. While Molly had been overjoyed, most of the other Weasleys had not been so forgiving. Arthur and the twins were on the same page: every time they saw him they had a terrible desire to jinx him. Ron had mixed feelings about the whole affair. He rapidly skimmed the letter before handing it off to Ginny.

"Just talks about how life's going and his job," (Percy worked for the Wizengamot and it was apparently of the utmost secrecy), "Trying to win me over basically. What I wanted was my reply from Charlie." Ron told Harry disinterestedly. Hermione then suddenly gasped. The boys looked at her. She had gone pale.

"What's wrong?" Harry demanded.

"The paper... um, V-Voldemort—"she stumbled. Harry quickly snatched the paper at the mention of that name. No page turning was required because there on the front page was, "Attack on the Ministry" with a picture of the Ministry of Magic's main hall. According to the article, which Harry had torn through so quickly he was positive he missed about half of it, a very influential member of the Wizengamot had been murdered, along with his family. The Dark Mark had been found hovering over their house. Allegedly, the official, Nate Norkin, had been uncooperative with Voldemort, or simply in his way. A smaller article revealed a group of Muggles had been killed by Death Eaters near London.

Harry pushed the paper back towards Hermione, slowly. Around them, students were muttering loudly & speaking to one another, running from table to table with a paper in hand; everyone was discussing it.

"It's just... I can't... all of this is happening again." Hermione sorrowfully said. Ron looked a little on the sick side.

"I have to owl my parents and Percy, see if he's all right," he announced. Harry suddenly stood up.

"I'm going to class," he tonelessly told them. He grabbed his bag and walked off. Hermione sighed and looked fearfully at Ron.

"I hope he's okay," he mumbled, knowing the outcome if he wasn't: Harry would pull away for God knew how long.

He was totally silent in class and when his classes were through, he stayed away from Ron & Hermione. Harry knew they wanted to talk to him (he could tell by the way Hermione was looking at him in Charms), and did an excellent job of avoiding them. He decided to take refuge in the Room of Requirement, deeming Gryffindor Tower unsafe. As he sat on a sofa staring at his blank Transfiguration essay, Harry thought about Voldemort. He somehow felt responsible for the deaths of the Norkins and Muggles, or anyone else Voldemort had recently tormented. Sense told him he was being stupid but he couldn't listen to it. No matter what, he still felt it was his fault Voldemort had returned and knew it was solely up to him to stop the Dark Lord (or be stopped). However, he felt no closer to achieving this in any respect and had no idea how to do so. Harry also felt as if the time was drawing near and that truly frightened him.

He had still yet to tell his best friends about the prophecy. It seemed impossible to do and he was terrified. He feared their reactions, and if Hermione—oh God, Hermione.... Harry put his head in his hands. About a minute later the door quietly opened and someone walked cautiously inside. Hermione bit her lip when she saw Harry with his head down. She wanted desperately to comfort him like she had done in the past, but more so. She wanted to _kiss _away his pain as well.

"Harry?" she started. He quickly looked up, surprised to see her. How in Merlin's name had she found him? He dismissed that thought, remembering she was the smartest witch in school.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I came to see you." Hermione replied, walking closer.

"Why?"

"Because I haven't seen you all day. It's six o'clock you know. Harry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I've... just been doing homework, is all. I told you I was going to catch up on it today." Harry told her.

"Well... it just seems like you've been avoiding Ron and me," she tentatively remarked.

"I haven't," he bluntly said. She winced a little.

"Harry, please—if anything is wrong just tell me." He sighed. He couldn't fault Hermione for worrying. She didn't want a duplicate of sixth year, he reasoned.

"Really Hermione, I'm fine. Or, I will be. I just need to be alone." Harry explained. She nodded, stepping back to the door.

"I understand. If you do want to talk, I'm here Harry—you know that."

"I know," he murmured, giving the faintest smile. Hermione then left the room, giving Harry his wish. Of course he had Hermione, there was _always _Hermione....

A/N: Fourth chapter down! I'll post again on Wednesday. This fic is probably going to be much longer than I anticipated. Also, more Voldemort/dark magic events will occur. Well, til next time!


	5. Quidditch Anger

Disclaimer: Yeah. Don't own HP.

A/N: This is not a very informative chapter, nor is it long, (None of them are long for that matter...) but hey-- it's still part of the story. Things get better and more interesting starting in chapter 6.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 5

He spent the rest of the night by himself. By the time he woke up on Friday morning, he was okay. (It probably had a lot to do with the fact that there was a Quidditch match. Harry got up early, before any of the other boys, and went over the plays once more before moving to get ready. When he was finished he woke Ron up, commanding him to get ready and head down to breakfast. As Harry himself went to go eat, he felt as though he was being very lenient; his preceding captains had made sure the team had been up much earlier than this. When he was halfway done with his food, his team members came tromping in. They appeared to be in pretty benevolent spirits.

"Morning," he greeted, "Eat." They smiled and sat down, tucking in. A short while later Hermione came wandering into the Great Hall.

"Are you feeling all right Harry?" she asked hesitantly, glancing at Ron.

"Apart from being a little jittery about the game, I'm fine." he truthfully responded.

"Good," she grinned.

"Hey Harry, look at what Dean made," said Seamus. They turned their heads to see two medium sized banners on the table. One simply said "Go Gryffindor" with a picture of a trampled on snake, and the other said "Captain Potter". Beneath it was a ridiculously buff Harry with a red cape. Ron laughed and Hermione tried to hide a smile. Dean was grinning.

"You're not going to actually hold that up, are you?" Harry fearfully questioned.

"Yep!" Dean and Seamus replied in unison. Ron laughed even harder.

The game was after everyone's first class. For Harry, Ron, and Hermione that meant Transfiguration. Neither boy paid attention during class and Harry's leg decided it didn't want to stop twitching. When it was finally time to go, McGonagall nodded confidently at them before they rapidly left.

"Good luck! I'll see you out there!" Hermione told them as they separated. Ron and Harry hurried to the locker rooms, where their Quidditch gear, brooms, and teammates were. Lauren Chid, a fifth year Chaser, and Colin Creevy were the only other ones there, so everyone got dressed. Five minutes later, all seven were present, ready, and listening to Harry's speech, which was remarkably concise. (He was not one to lecture).

"Let's go then," he told them when he had finished. They all stood up and walked out onto the pitch. The students in the stands cheered and shouted. The Slytherin team was slowly making its way across the grass. The Gryffindors approached Madam Hooch and waited for the Slytherins. When they arrived, Malfoy was smiling as only he could.

"Captains, shake hands." Hooch announced. Harry stuck out his hand, not sure of who it was for. But when Malfoy raised his own hand, Harry quickly let his fall. (Some of the people in the stands laughed).

"What?!" he sharply said.

"Potter!" exclaimed Hooch.

"That's right Potter, _I'm _captain!," Malfoy remarked, his gray eyes dancing, "Who did you think it would be?" Ron looked positively appalled.

"That's right Potter, Malfoy is the Slytherin captain. Now shake his hand or I will have Gryffindor disqualified!" Hooch told him. There was no way Harry was going to lose like that so he threw out his hand and shook Malfoy's with as little contact as possible.

"Mount your brooms!" Hooch commanded. They all obeyed. Harry and Malfoy's eyes never left one another. Head Boy _and _Quidditch captain?! Was that the reward for being the son of a Death Eater? How had the blonde Slytherin pulled that one? It was crazy... and a little unfair. The whistle blew and 14 people shot into the air.

"And the first game of the season commences!," yelled Ernie Macmillan, "Both teams have new captains this year, Harry Potter for Gryffindor and Draco Malfoy for Slytherin! Both are the team Seeker as well! This shall prove to be a very interesting year! Aaaaand Ginny Weasley takes the Quaffle, passing it to fellow Chaser Sarah Clayborn..."

Harry began to look for the Snitch, trusting his team to carry out the plays. He then heard Malfoy laugh loudly.

"You think much of yourself, don't you _captain_!" he sneered. Harry turned to see what he was going on about; Malfoy had seen Dean's muscular portrayal of him. Harry turned red. But before he could fly off to the other end of the goalposts (to get away), what he saw in the stands made him feel as though a Bludger had hit him. Next to Neville and Dean sat Seamus & Lavender, who were holding hands, Parvati & her twin, then Hermione and David Rice. Harry didn't have much time to react because he forced himself to get moving. (This _was _Quidditch, for Merlin's sake...). What was Rice doing with Hermione?! He was _not _a Gryffindor and definitely not a friend of Harry's. If anything, he was a potential enemy; a rival Seeker. Oh, he had some nerve! To let out his frustration, Harry zoomed around the stadium twice, a scarlet blur.

"Whoa! Potter gives out a burst of energy there!" Ernie shouted. Ron looked at his friend with doubt for a split second before stopping the Quaffle. What was Harry doing?

"And Weasley successfully ceases the ball! The score is 10-0, Gryffindor!"

Thirty minutes later the game was still going with not the slightest hint of the Snitch. Gryffindor was up by 20 (70-50) and things had turned rather nasty. Lauren was sporting a black eye, Matthew's cheek had been heavily cut, Ginny's robes had been ripped, and Harry had a small lump on the back of his head. The Slytherins were in just as bad shape however; the Gryffindors were not going to take all of that lying down.

"You know Potty," drawled Malfoy, "Now that I'm captain, that Quidditch Cup is coming back to the Slytherin House, its rightful place," As if to confirm this, a Slytherin Chaser scored. Cheers erupted and Malfoy smirked, arms crossed, "Your winning streak is over." Harry then saw gold out of the corner of his eye. The Snitch was flying around underneath Malfoy. Without warning Harry dove. Malfoy looked after him, flabbergasted. The audience held its breath.

"Come on, follow me." Harry muttered. A split second later he did. Both Seekers tore after the winged ball with Harry in the lead. Hermione had David's hand in hers, unknowingly, and was practically crushing it.

"And both captains have seen the Snitch and are going for it!" cried Ernie. Harry suddenly slowed down a bit, letting Malfoy get ahead.

"What is he doing?! He's on a Firebolt!" yelled Dean. Parvati's face fell as the Gryffindor students began to wail. Harry's team members watched in horror. Malfoy, however, laughed in triumph as he inched closer. For him, this game was over. And indeed, it _was _over. Harry then came up from underneath the Snitch, grabbing it and continuing to fly upwards. His House was beside itself as Ernie Macmillan happily shouted the conclusion.

"With a spectacular final move by Harry Potter, Gryffindor wins! 220 to 60! Take that Slytherin!" Harry looked down to see Malfoy glaring up at him with the utmost contempt and surprise. Harry grinned as his team bombarded him. His first game as captain had gone well.

That night a party was, naturally, held in Gryffindor Tower. Everyone was in fantastic spirits for having won the first game of the season. (Hermione was of course making sure things didn't get too out of hand. She already had to watch the first years' butterbeer intake). Harry was assured plenty of times he was the best captain to have ever happened to Gryffindor and that winning this year was inevitable.

"I will never forget the look on Malfoy's face! I wish I had had a camera!" Ron said. Harry laughed. They sat near the fireplace.

"He definitely is sure of himself to have never won a game." Harry replied.

"Against you, that is." Before Harry could respond a group of girls approached them. Two waved to him, smiling.

"Harry, that was amazing!" Parvati declared. She stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. Ron grinned.

"Thanks Parvati," said Harry, blushing a bit.

"One of these days you'll have to teach me how to fly like that!" She and her friends then walked off.

"Nice! You should've become Parvati's friend a long time ago!" smiled Ron cheekily.

"Shut up. If you weren't so concerned about me, you'd know Ginny's talking to Matthew."

"What?!" Ron leapt up and hurried off to find his sister. He hadn't been gone 10 seconds before Hermione took his place.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he retorted. The image of David Rice sitting smugly next to her came back to him and he could feel his anger returning.

"You did a good job today." Hermione complimented.

"Thanks."

"You had us worried there at the end."

"Hmm."

"Did you plan that?" He shrugged as an answer. She looked at him strangely.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Yes. Why?" Harry questioned.

"Because you're being short with me," she unexpectedly snapped. _What is up with her?!_, he thought, I _have reason to be mad! Rice was basically in her lap!_

"No I'm not," he hissed. He wanted so desperately to ask—no, demand—what David had been doing with her.

"Whatever," she stated.

"Are you sure _you're _okay? You're the short one." Harry told her, arms crossed. Hermione looked sharply at him. _No, I'm lovely apart from the fact that Parvati practically tongue wrestled with you!_

"I'm fine," she grumbled.

"Well so am I," he quickly replied.

"You would be after that interlude with Parvati." His eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Nothing." Hermione said, immediately feeling idiotic.

"At least I don't parade around Quidditch matches with random girls." Harry remarked. Her mouth dropped open. He had seen her and was now taking a shot at her & David!

"Excuse me!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking with anger.

"If you're confused Hermione, go talk to Rice," he spat. She stood up and was glowering.

"Then I guess your thing is putting on tactless shows in the common room for all to see!" Hermione shouted before stomping off.

"Can't be worse than the Quidditch stadium!" he yelled after her. She screamed and ran the rest of the way. Harry turned angrily to see the entire common room gawking. He cleared his throat and slowly started to make his way to his room. Everyone's eyes followed his every move. Ron, who stood next to Ginny & Matthew Burnstone, gave a nervous chuckle. He departed the common room as well, saying:

"Don't mind them. They're both a bit mental, really." Ron tore after Harry. When they were out of sight, babble promptly broke out.

* * *

The story Harry fed to Ron was that all he had done was casually mention Hermione sitting with Rice and she had totally blown up by overreacting. Ron had been struck speechless due to sheer anger and vowed to hex the Ravenclaw into next year when his voice returned. (He had been so furious about the whole affair that Harry figured Ron seriously meant to carry out his threat). On Saturday Harry and Hermione refused to speak to one another. Ron had naturally taken Harry's side, so he exchanged few words with Hermione. She sought solace in the library, completing homework and essays. By Sunday afternoon, however, Hermione began to feel poorly. She was beginning to miss Harry and regretted their argument. (She also regretted making a spectacle of herself in front of every Gryffindor). 

True, she had had fights with Harry before, but they always managed to make her feel miserable. It was nothing like fighting with Ron; his ignorance and stupidity succeeded in driving her up the wall to the point where she didn't care if she ever spoke to him again at times. But with Harry, it hurt not to speak to him daily, or see his face... his absurdly _cute _face....

After a dinner spent alone that night, she gloomily walked back to the Head Room. This was just too much; Hermione _had _to make up with Harry, whether she lost face with him or not. She would simply have to forget about that whole Parvati affair, though it would be gruesomely difficult. _Besides, _she thought, _don't you think you're being a hypocrite?_

"Not in the least bit." Hermione sniffed, walking into the Head Room. She then froze. Someone, and definitely not Malfoy, was on the black sofa. They quickly jumped up and she exhaled.

"Harry," she quietly said.

"Uh, hi," he answered, walking cautiously over.

"How'd you get in?"

"You have to be more careful about who you let the password slip to." Harry doubtfully grinned. He seemed unsure about something, which Hermione found too charming. _Stop it, before you end up impulsively kissing him!_, she scolded. And oh, what a fix that would put them in. Sadly, Hermione realized he didn't feel that way about her—he _couldn't_! God, it was unfair! She did everything in her power to not start crying out of despair. Harry took her silence as hostility.

"Look Hermione, I'm really sorry about Friday after the match. I was stupid to have said what I did and... I'm sorry. It's none of my business, right? Just speak to me again," he explained. The truth was he had been just as distressed as she had been the past two days. Hermione's lip trembled and she launched herself onto him, sobbing. Yes, she was crying now but for a completely different reason than before. Who cared if he would never be with her romantically; he was with her now.

"I'm sorry too Harry! I was to blame as well! Maybe we both overreacted?" she said.

"Yeah, probably." Harry agreed, (reluctantly) letting her go. He instinctively wiped the tears from her face while she gave a small laugh.

"Besides, David and I are just friends," she assured. Harry felt as though he could fly without his broomstick.

* * *

A/N: It took me awhile to post again, but I was extremely busy! College life is no joke. I'll post again on Wednesday, or maybe sooner, if I am free... 


	6. Hogsmeade Hullabaloo

Disclaimer: Do I have to say it?!

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers!!! I only have a few but it matters. Muchas gracias. Glad the story is enjoyable.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 6

It was Thursday and Harry sat in Charms, thinking about Quidditch. (There was only about five minutes left in class). Gryffindor's second game was against Ravenclaw—_Rice's _team. Ever since Sunday, Harry had noticed "the friends" much more than before. He also knew Ron had yet to get Rice alone and way dying to. The game was set for next week and neither Harry nor Ron could wait to face him on the field.

"Don't forget about your projects! They require much work so I suggest you begin as soon as possible!" Professor Flitwick heeded.

"When do you want to start Harry?" asked Hermione, who was sitting next to him. He started.

"Start what?" retorted Harry.

"The project."

"What project?" She gaped at him, pure irritation written across her face.

"The one Flitwick was just mentioning! The one for which you're my partner! The one he told us about on Tuesday!" Hermione told him.

"Oh, _that_..." he murmured.

"Yes, that. We've known about it for two days so we're much behind. We need to begin very soon," They walked out of the classroom, "What do you think?" He knew what he thought: he didn't want to do it, knew Hermione would murder him if he admitted that, and knew she would work him to the bone. Either way, Harry was glad to be working with her. For a minute he had considered working with Parvati; she had indeed asked him. But in the end the idea of spending extra time with Hermione (even if it would be laborious) won him over.

"I—"Harry began.

"_I _think we might as well start now. There's no time like the present, right?" And we're not doing anything.... We can work in the library until dinner." Hermione spilled out. She looked at him expectantly. He simply nodded, seeing no point in arguing.

"And of course if the library is no help, we can always use the Head's Room..." she went on.

When Harry and Hermione resurfaced a few hours later, they had to explain their absence to Ron. The three of them then walked to the Great Hall, meeting Ginny along the way. Before they entered, someone called out to Hermione. The other three were so wrapped up in their own conversation they didn't hear it, or when Hermione told them she'd be a minute. She waved them off, frustrated, and went to see her caller: David. She spoke with him for a couple of minutes and then he walked in to eat, giving her a warm smile. Hermione, on the other hand, did not feel like eating anymore, or better yet, being around people. She sighed. However, it'd look really suspicious if she just took off suddenly. _But what if they start on a certain subject you don't want to talk about?_, she thought. _They're bound to, you know? Hogsmeade _is _on Saturday_. With that, Hermione went back to the Tower, not caring.

Meanwhile, the subject of Hogsmeade had been brought up. Dean had announced he was going with Bethany King and Ginny claimed she was going with someone as well. Ron had surprisingly not said anything to his sister, but had no trouble complaining to Harry.

"If it's Burnstone, I swear he's a dead man." Ron quietly snarled.

"It's not." Harry remarked. He had heard Colin Creevy earlier that week telling his friends he was going with Ginny.

"Are you going with anyone Harry?" Parvati wondered, smiling lightly.

"No," he retorted, "Are you?"

"No," she remarked, eyes searching elsewhere. She sounded a bit sad and hopeful, "It'd be nice though."

"See you there then." Parvati stared at him for a second before lamely replying:

"Yeah, see you there." Lavender gave her friend's hand an encouraging squeeze under the table, grinning. God, boys could be _so _daft

* * *

Hermione could not believe what she had done last night. She had no idea what in all of Britain had made her agree, but it was too late to back out now. If she went back on her word it would be rude. Hermione was stuck with her decision and the consequences of it, those being Ron and Harry's reactions. Of course she still hadn't told them she had accepted David's invitation to Hogsmeade, but doubted it could be put off.

Once again, she sat alone at the Gryffindor table sipping coffee. Hermione wondered when the opportune moment to tell them would come.

"What happened to you last night? You just disappeared!," Ron said as he and Harry sat down, "Don't tell me you've got another Time Turner!" She fed him her well-rehearsed lie:  
"I remembered my Muggle Studies essay at the last minute. I had to finish it." Ron bought it but Harry didn't. It wasn't like Hermione to forget an assignment; it was damn near impossible is what it was.

"So what are we going to do tomorrow in Hogsmeade?" asked Harry, stabbing a piece of sausage. She gulped her coffee down. Perhaps now was the time....

"Don't be surprised if I don't show up. I'm going to ask Rebecca today." Ron wickedly grinned. Harry smiled.

"Um, actually, I won't be going with you two." Hermione reported.

"Why? You don't have Head Girl business, do you?" Ron inquired.

"Mo, it's just that... well, I-I'm going with someone." They stared darkly at her.

"Come again?"

"I'm already going with someone."

"Who?" Harry half demanded, fearing her answer. _God, why did _Harry _have to ask that question?!_, she thought.

"It's not Rice, is it?" Ron sharply pondered.

"I _am _going with David, in fact." Hermione answered in a rather small voice. Ron closed his eyes and clenched & unclenched his hands under the table.

"I thought you were just friends." Harry roughly pointed out.

"We _are_! But friends go to Hogsmeade! I go with you!" she insisted.

"That's different!" defended Ron, eyes flying open.

"How?!"

"We've known you longer!"

"Ron!," She sighed loudly, "Why can't you two give David a chance? He's very kind and sweet—"

"That's because he wants something!" scoffed Ron. Hermione's fear and patience floated away. She was tired of constantly defending her relationship with Daivd; they _were _merely friends. Ron and Harry needed to stop acting insane. Were they going to scare off any and every other male?!

"Ron, _you're _going with that Mesh girl!" Hermione cried.

"Maybe! And _that's _different as well!"

"Oh what rubbish! Look, I'm going with David. I'm sorry if the idea doesn't please you." She stood up. Before she left she looked at Harry. The look he gave her sent chills down her spine, both good and bad. She left the Hall, cursing those green eyes of his.

"I can't _believe _her!" Ron fiercely stated, throwing down a fork. No, neither could Harry. All throughout Transfiguration, the only thing he could think about was Hermione and David. Why was she going with him?! Was she trying to anger Harry purposefully? Because it was working, well. But this time he promised he wouldn't get into a confrontation with her; that had been ghastly. No, no fight.... But Merlin! What was Hermione playing at?! She was _killing _Harry!

Unfortunately, that unpleasant thought stayed on his brain until the last class of the day. He then remembered had had scheduled Quidditch practice at seven, so he had to eat an early supper. When that was done Harry went back to the Tower at a quarter to seven to fetch his broom. Coming back down to the common room he saw Parvati sitting with Lavender; they were laughing. It then struck him. Of course.... He debated over whether or not to wait to speak to Parvati or to do it now. Harry decided it could wait until practice was over, and made his way to the field.

Once there, he saw a disturbed looking Ron sitting moodily in the stands. The red head's broom sat by itself in the grass.

"What's up with you?" Harry asked.

"Rebecca already has a date." Ron said, brow furrowed.

"Was she mean about it?"

"No. She seemed sincere."

"Then just try again later. You know of the dates in advanced in anyway," Ron unfolded his arms, looking somewhat hopeful, "Listen—I'm going to ask Parvati to Hogsmeade."

"What? Really?!," questioned Ron, his face lighting up, "Ha! I _knew _it!"

"It's not like that. Hermione just made a good point: there's no harm in going with a friend," smirked Harry.

"If you say so Harry." Ron shrugged, totally unconvinced.

An hour and a half later, the Gryffindor team went back into the castle. Most of it hit the showers but Harry didn't have the patience. He needed to find Parvati as soon as possible. She wasn't in the common room at first glance so he took the opportunity to put away his Firebolt and wash his face. He checked the Marauder's Map to make sure she was at least in the Tower; he saw her dot in its dormitory. Harry then went back to the common room (still clad in Quidditch robes) and waited. At one point Seamus and Dean asked him what he was doing. He told them and received grins.

At 8:45, Parvati finally came down. She was heading towards the portrait hole but he stopped her.

"Parvati!," he cried out, "Can I... talk to you?" She looked puzzled.

"Sure Harry," she said, walking over to him. She loved it when he was in uniform; he looked so cute.

"Um, are you still not going with someone tomorrow? I mean, you're still going alone?"

"Yes."

"Right. Do you... can I...," he struggled, mentally slapping himself, "Would you want to go with me?" Joy overtook her face so fully and suddenly it was shocking. Parvati nodded vigorously, grinning.

"All right, cool," smiled Harry, "I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at one?"

"That's fine," she breathlessly said.

"Okay. Um, sorry to have stopped you from... wherever you were going."

"Oh! Yes, that! No, it's not a hassle so you don't have to apologize. Though I should probably get going again." A group of third and fourth years neared them, whispering intently. They were silent while actually passing the two and started up again when they thought they were far away enough. One of the girls purposefully gazed back at Harry and Parvati. He was beyond the point of caring why people stared & gossiped on his regard; it happened too often.

"Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow Harry!" Parvati called, smiling broadly and leaving through the portrait hole.

"Bye." Harry answered. He then went back to his room, proud of himself for asking out Parvati. Sure, a part of him had done it to get back at Hermione, but he found more of himself truly anticipating the next day and spending it with Parvati. Tomorrow would be interesting.

* * *

"Looks like it's just me and Neville." Ron bitterly remarked as the five boys made their way down the staircase.

"Now that's just wrong Ron. Neville's a nice lad and I'm sure he likes _you_." Seamus responded.

"Sod off Finnigan," he replied, smiling in spite of himself. The others laughed, including Neville. They reached the front of Hogwarts, said goodbye to one another, and departed.

"See you there with Ms. Patil." Ron grinned slyly to Harry.

"Maybe we won't. Maybe they'll find a secluded corner." Neville added. Ron laughed and Harry shook his head, turning around to wait for her.  
A few moments later Parvati came walking into view. She wore a yellow sweater & jeans, and her dark hair curled richly around and past her shoulders. In short, she looked painfully pretty.

"Hi!" greeted Parvati.

"H-hi," Harry remarked. Should he say something about her appearance?, "Uh... ready to go?" (Apparently not).

"Yeah." They walked to the doors where Hermione and Malfoy stood, making sure the correct students were leaving to Hogsmeade. Luckily the Head Boy was busy telling two fifth years they didn't have parental consent (which was a lie), so they encountered Hermione. Her face mirrored Harry's when his name had been pulled out of the Goblet of Fire: pure shock and disbelief.

"Hi Hermione." Parvati warmly said. She couldn't answer. As they left her eyes followed them, focusing mainly on Harry. He glanced back and they made eye contact. A second later David Rice came strolling slowly up to Hermione, throwing a weary glance at Malfoy. Harry turned back around, smiling smugly, and started a conversation with Parvati.

* * *

A/N: Posted like I said I would! I made the Heads check for Hogsmeade b/c I am trying to give them tasks that seem Headish, lol. I will post again on Saturday, the day b4 Halloween! (Oooh, spooky! MWA HA HA!!!) Til then! Oh, and sorry about the shorther than usual chapter! Chapter 7 makes up for it. 


	7. Love Conquers All

Disclaimer: Yada yada yada... (don't own HP).

A/N:Nervous laugh: Okay, so I didn't post on Saturday. I have a reason—I couldn't! I realized that if I posted the seventh chapter, I wouldn't have been ahead of myself. Let me clarify: I only put up a chapter if I have written at least one chapter to counter it. Say, I post 9... well then I had better have at least chapter 10 written. See what I mean? So I worked my arse off this weekend by writing this fic. :More nervous laughter: Okay, that was enough rambling for today. This is the chapter where everything takes off.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 7

He had done it intentionally. Hermione wore a scowl on the outside but on the inside she was rampaging. Harry had come to Hogsmeade with Parvati just to spite Hermione and she knew it. Sure, a part of her suggested she was egotistically jumping to conclusions, but she ignored it. Hermione was sure of her intuition; she could _feel _it.

"Are you all right Hermione?" David asked as they neared The Three Broomsticks. He looked concerned and rather hurt. Hermione's angry countenance faltered. Of course he looked that way: she had been a terrible companion since they left Hogwarts. She hadn't been exceptionally talkative or nice, for that matter, too caught up with Parvati and Harry.

"I-I'm fine, David," she said, feeling like a complete nimrod. He didn't deserve her little attitude—he had been nothing but tolerable and sweet.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Let's go in for butterbeers, shall we?" Hermione suggested, giving him her first smile of their trip.

"Okay," he answered, feeling much better. David pulled open the door and they entered. It was jam packed with students, inevitably. Hermione saw Seamus and Lavender sitting closely at the counter. A little further along was Ron and Neville, talking to Madame Rosemerta.

"Um, how about a table in the back?" Hermione offered up, not wanting Ron to spot them and cause a scene. David nodded and they moved in that direction. She waved to Ginny and Colin whom they saw along the way. When they had found an empty table near a window, Hermione saw her partner in Headship in a far corner, whispering sweet nothings into a pretty, Slytherin brunette's ear. She was blushing and smiling like it was nobody's business. Malfoy's hand disappeared from view, probably gone to have grope the girl somewhere. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust and sat down.

Wanting to make up for her previous atrocious behavior, she kept up good conversation with him. When they were halfway through with their drinks, Malfoy and the brunette left the pub hand in hand, in a hurry. They probably wanted to be more affectionate in a much more private setting.

"I'm sort of nervous." David said.

"About what?" Hermione retorted.

"Next week."

"What happens..."

"We play Gryffindor in Quidditch. Your House reputation is rather intimidating, especially now with Harry as captain. He's excellent, though you of all people know that," he explained. She gave a strained smile. She hadn't thought about Harry for a good 15 minutes. Unpleasant memories resurfaced.

"He's only human, David," Hermione reassured, "Do _not _fear him. There is nothing terrifying about Harry!" _Except the way he makes me feel_.

"You've never had to fly against him." David smiled wearily. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Parvati and Harry walk by their window. He was talking and she was giggling. Hermione scrunched her nose up and tackled her anger before it could escape.

"Let's not talk about Harry please," she briskly announced, "Neither of us is on this date with him; we're with each other." David's ears pricked up at the word 'date'. Wait, she hadn't meant to say that! He grinned and dropped his gaze, fumbling with his butterbeer bottle. Wow, she had _definitely _not intended to say date...

That evening in the common room Hermione sought out Harry. The Hogsmeade trip had ended well for her. She knew that she probably shouldn't have done it, but she gave David a quick peck on the cheek for being so kind and warm. He really was a great guy and Hermione refused to use him as a pawn or give him the wrong impression. If only Harry didn't have such a hold on her and weren't so difficult!

Hermione found him sitting in a chair close to the fireplace. Ron and Seamus were near by playing chess.

"Hello," she cordially greeted, sitting across from him. Harry looked up from a Quidditch book.

"Hi Hermione," he replied, giving a small smile. She stared at him for a moment before continuing, gathering all of her cool.

"So... how was Hogsmeade?"

"Good."

"Have fun with Parvati?" Hermione wondered, striving to sound sincere and not bitter.

"Yes I did," responded Harry, sounding amused, "How was Ri—David?"

"The perfect gentleman," she haughtily noted. She wanted so very badly to ask him why in Merlin's name he had gone with Parvati and what exactly he was trying to achieve. But Hermione knew Harry was just waiting for the opportunity to throw her going-as-friends excuse in her face. She could not come out of this thing as a hypocrite.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Paravti's really cool. I'll have to start going with her more often. You know... as _friends_," he said, looking at her intently. (Bam! There it was! The 'friends' bit)! His eyes told a totally opposite story than the one that happy smile on his lips was telling.

"You... do that." Hermione struggled, the thought of Harry going anywhere else with Parvati tormenting her.

"I will."

"Maybe one day all _four _of us can go together."

"Er... s-sure." Harry stammered, thrown off track. Why was she taking this so well?

"We're all becoming such good friends and all." Hermione stated, a little too happily to be believable.

"Yeah." They looked at each other for a moment. Hermione pondered over whether or not that vamp Parvati had tried to kiss him and Harry wondered if that git Rice had tried to make a move on her.

"Well then... I'll go work on our Charms project," she opted, getting up.

"All right. I've got to finalize these Quidditch plays." Harry replied. Hermione had to hide a disappointed scowl; she had hoped & expected him to help.

"Right. See you." She then went up to her dormitory. When she was gone, and after Ron gleefully yelled checkmate (or perhaps it was check, _mate_), Harry took a piece of parchment out of the Quidditch book. It was titled _The DA_.

* * *

Parvati had been the first person Harry had told about resurfacing the DA; it had happened on their Hogsmeade journey. He had been thinking about it for quite some time and decided in giving it another go. He figured he could teach them what he was currently learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts & Charms, and simply research more spells if that wasn't enough. On Monday, Harry finally told Ron and Hermione his plan. 

"Really? You're going to start it again?" Ron asked. It was lunch and the trio was walking around the grounds. (They were currently near the greenhouses). Harry nodded.

"That's great Harry." Hermione said.

"It's excellent," said Ron, "But it'll be just like last time, huh? Maybe even harder to meet. There's Quidditch and prefect stuff..."

"We can do it." Harry remarked.

"When do you want to have the first meeting?" Hermione questioned.

"Well... not so much as the _first _meeting, but more so just re-introducing it," he explained, "And I thought Wednesday. Is it too soon?"

"No... probably not. The same people will pretty much show up so it shouldn't take very long to get word out."

"It'd be after my rounds, right?" inquired Ron.

"Of course. I was thinking 10:30," retorted Harry. Hermione bit her lip. A large group of students out past curfew? She _was _Head Girl.

"D'you think we could do it earlier? I mean, isn't rather late? What about seven, or 7:30?" she suggested. They both looked at her.

"Can't. Practice." Ron reminded her. Damn Quidditch!

"Can't you move it to another time or day?" she asked Harry pleadingly.

"Not really. The field is taken, or people's schedules conflict. Besides, we play Ravenclaw the next day," he answered. She clicked her tongue, looking extremely worried, "Why? What's wrong Hermione?"

"It's just... I'm scared we'll all get caught and in trouble, especially me. All of these students going back to their rooms when the castle's empty? In the open? When teachers are still up and _looking _for people out past curfew?" Hermione told them. She had a point. Harry opened his mouth to speak. If she was freaking out about it this much maybe it wasn't such a good idea. And if they _were _reprimanded, Harry surely didn't want her to lose her title. Before he could get a word out, Ron did.

"Okay, I see where you're coming from Hermione. It _is _a little dumb to have the meeting that late," Harry glared at his best friend, "But! It'll only be this one time; we obviously won't always meet at this hour. And we'll take extreme precaution getting back." Hermione surveyed him for a minute, speculating.

"All right," she sighed. Ron grinned confidently and Harry's jaw dropped. _Ron _had convinced _Hermione_!

They treaded on the first stone step as Hagrid came out of the castle.

"Ah! Her'mione! Tha headmaster wan's tah see ya! Head bus'ness!" he told her.

"Really? Oh, thanks Hagrid! Bye!" Hermione smiled at him and grabbed onto her bag, shooting inside.

"You boys already eat," wondered Hagrid, "Got rock cakes in tha' hut!" Harry and Ron immediately began talking at once.

"Oh, we're fine! Fully, actually!"

"Ate loads! Couldn't dream of more food!"

"Thanks though!"

"We'll stop by later, just to chat."

"See how Grawp's doing!" The two quickly said goodbye, patting Hagrid on his massive shoulders, and hurried inside.

"Er... right," he mumbled, a bit bedazzled.

Word for the DA was spread entirely throughout Gryffindor and almost entirely throughout Hufflepuff by Monday night. (Ravenclaw would be dealt with the next day). It would be held in the Room of Requirement, naturally. Harry figured the old (remaining) members would only mostly show up, but just to be safe information had gone out that if you knew nothing about the RR, seek out Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, or Ron Weasley. Harry contemplated telling Albus Dumbledore about the DA but he decided against it. If Dumbledore found out about it, it would be through him; their relationship had suffered a riff ever since that fateful day in Dumbledore's office when Harry was 15.

* * *

On Tuesday Harry received a shocking, unexpected surprise. He was late to breakfast, due to oversleeping. (He had had a very nice dream... Hermione had been in it...). He arrived after the post had already come. 

"Couldn't wake me up Ron?" he wondered, buttering a muffin. Harry was asking just to hear Ron's answer; he hadn't minded.

"You looked happy," the red head shrugged, downing pumpkin juice. Hermione was reading the newspaper.

"Anything in there about Vol—"Harry quickly started.

"No," she said.

When he was done eating, Harry noticed groups of Gryffindor girls looking at him and whispering. They had copies of Witch Weekly and would occasionally point to a page. When he looked their way, they averted their eyes.

"What now?" he growled. His friends had noticed as well.

"Maybe you should just ask." Ron suggested.

"No. I don't want them to know I care."

"But you do."

"No I don't. I just wish they'd be discreet about it!"

"Don't worry over it, Harry. It's probably just the usual, silly, run-of-the-mill story about you." Hermione soothed.

"Let's go to class," he sighed.

The number of eager whispers and stares increased throughout the morning. He grew more and more irritated, up to the point that he _had _to know what was going on so he could yell at everyone that it was a lie and to leave him alone. At lunch he moodily threw his bag on the table and rapidly started consuming food in order to leave early. Ron sat at his side, silent.

"Is it really true Harry?" Neville inquired as he, Dean, and Seamus took seats near them.

"What! Is what really true," he exploded, throwing down his knife, "I'll bet 200 Galleons it's not!" His roommates recoiled.

"You... you don't know?" Dean wondered, awed.

"No!" Their seventh year female counterparts then arrived at the table. Parvati looked rather tense.

"Harry? Can I, um, talk to you?" she asked. He looked at her as if he had never seen her before and then replied:

"D'you think it could wait for a minute Parvati? I'm trying to—"

"Here Harry!" Dennis Creevy piped up, throwing him a copy of Witch Weekly. (He had been listening in. In fact, many people were watching them).

"It's on page 17." Seamus told him. Harry flipped there, ignoring Parvati's urgent call of his name. Hermione wore a confused frown.

**Harry Potter, Boy Wonder: **Love Conquers All

Exciting things are happening for our favorite young wizard this school year. He has been named captain of Hogwarts' Gryffindor Quidditch team, and has recently (_very _recently) been spotted with a mysterious young lady at Hogsmeade. This gorgeous, lucky girl is fellow Gryffindor and seventh year, Parvati Patil—Potter's new girlfriend...

Harry dropped the magazine, not bothering to finish. His mouth hung open and he gaped at Parvati.

"What?" he hoarsely questioned. She smiled sheepishly at him. Ron snatched the article to read, still at a loss.

"So are you two really an item?" a fifth year excitedly pondered. Harry looked dangerously at him then back to Parvati.

"We can have that talk now," he gruffly reported. He stood up and grabbed her wrist, leading her out of the Great Hall. Ron let out a blissful laugh as everyone began talking about the situation. Hermione, whom had read over Ron's shoulder, remained totally quiet, not as if anyone noticed. She felt as though there was no air in her lungs.

* * *

A/N: I don't know how to speak for Hagrid-- my God, it's hard! That's why he's not in the story much! (It's also b/c he's not a personal favorite of mine...) Anyway! More Lock and Key on Wednesday, chapter 8. Adios ;) 


	8. Close Call

Disclaimer: ::Dramatic sigh:: I will not say it.

A/N: Thanks to my new reviewer! I bow to you!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 8

"Did you know about this?!" Harry asked, pacing. He and Parvati were in the common room.

"No, not until this morning! Tessa showed me. I swear Harry—I knew nothing about this! I don't even know how they knew about Hogsmeade!" she insisted.

"Someone must have told them, as a stupid joke or something!" His mind instantly blamed Malfoy. Of course it had been the ferret lover... who else?!

"I'm sorry Harry." Parvati apologized.

"This is perfect. Now _everyone _thinks we're going out!" he irksomely sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

"Is it really that horrible?" she quietly wondered, a pained expression on her face. Initially Parvati had been somewhat thrilled to have been labeled Harry's girlfriend, even if it was a mistake. But now, upon seeing his angry reaction...

Harry looked at her uncertainly and then down at the floor in shame. He hadn't meant to hurt her with his words. _Maybe I'm overreacting, _he thought, _I've had much worse rumors spread about me_.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, "I didn't mean to come off as rude. It's not like they said... we-we shagged or something... it's just—"

"Another rumor—_lie _– in general." Parvati helped, reddening mightily from his observation.

"Exactly," he half-smiled, "It'd be nice they could get their facts straight for _once_." Silence overcame them suddenly. They both searched around uncertainly for nothing in particular.

"So what do we do now?" she questioned.

"Not much. Go on as though nothing ever happened." Harry shrugged.

"Right. Back down to lunch, then?" They walked to the entrance together and out. Parvati took two steps before Harry grabbed her hand in his. She looked at him, startled.

"Let's mess with their minds, for a bit," he smirked. She grinned.

Harry and Parvati turned out to be the news of the day, and was showing vast potential for being the highlight for the rest of the week; Hermione couldn't stand it. Of course she knew (desperately hoped) the two weren't dating—it was absurd. Harry, without a doubt, would have told her something so significant and heartbreaking. But the fact that people even _thought _they were boyfriend and girlfriend sickened her. And this rumor, Parvati's fault or not, had dropped the Patil girl in the sight of the Head Girl.

Hermione wanted to speak to Harry about the whole situation if only to reassure her conscience, but had yet to do so. She supposed she could corner him sometime after dinner when he was alone, though that would be difficult, seeing as how an unusual throng of people tailed him (all day, in fact). She figured she _could _simplygive them all detention... that'd clear them off.... At nine Hermione came into the common room to see all of Harry's personal marching band, all except Harry of course.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked Ron, pulling him aside.

"In our room. He said he'd be back down," he reported, "Why?"

"It's about our Charms project." With that she walked up the boys' dormitory staircase. This was just what she desired: Harry alone. _And hopefully in the middle of changing his shirt, _she mentally added. Scowling, but tingeing pink at the idea, she knocked on the seventh year dormitory.

"Who is it?" Harry demanded from inside.

"Me, Hermione," she replied. A (long) moment later the door opened. She entered as Harry went back to his desk. A quill and piece of parchment sat on it, indicating he had been writing some sort of something.

"Oh yes, I can see you're _rushing_ to get back downstairs." Hermione quipped, smiling. Harry snorted, eyes not leaving his work (which was a letter to Lupin).

"Isn't it obvious?" he wondered. She bit her lip, remembering why she had come up here.

"Er... can I ask you something?" she started. He nodded, studying her now. Hermione quickly strode across the room and sat on the edge of his bed, nervously fiddling with her robes.

"It's a bit silly, isn't it? This whole... little scenario involving you and Parvati." she said.

"Yeah." Harry plainly responded.

"So Witch Weekly caught you two at Hogsmeade? It doesn't mean anything," The fact that they spent a considerable amount of time together flashed in her mind, "Right?" He watched her, his face unreadable. Wow, he was making her incredibly uncomfortable.

"What do you think?" Harry inquired, arms folded.

"That it's an ill informed lie." Hermione promptly answered, sounding sure of herself and optimistic. He gave a small sigh, running a hand across his face.

"You and Ron know me better than anyone, Hermione. Come on—you'd know when something was up." He turned back to the parchment, leaving Hermione feeling much better. She got up and walked to the door.

"The same goes for me, Harry," she quietly informed, implying about David. He got the implication.

* * *

On Wednesday Harry solely worried about the DA meeting. (He took notice of the Quidditch match the next day but did not worry. He was convinced Rice and Ravenclaw were going down). He reviewed what he was going to say about a million times in his head. He didn't precisely know why he was so nervous about reforming it... and then again maybe he did. The war was in full effect now. He himself held the unforeseen power to stop it all, or at least Voldemort, and had no promise of making it out alive to see the end of the school year. He tried not to dwell on it because it depressed him, but he noted that at one point he was going to have to tell the DA about the prophecy. First, he had to tell his two best friends... Merlin, he still had yet to tell _Remus_.

That night Harry arrived in the Room of Requirement at 10:15. (He had spent most of dinner being pestered by Slytherin's blonde protégé and his admirers about Parvati. His team reaped the "benefits" of his mood during practice). Hermione was the second to arrive, and by 10:30 sharp, it seemed as though everyone was present. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Um, thank you for coming to—"she began. The door then swung open, Ron and Lavender scrambling in. She looked annoyed and he, flustered.

"Sorry! There was this fiasco with Filch, third years, and a whole lot of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes! We had to sort it all out!" Ron apologized, going to stand by Harry and Hermione in the front. He put his hands on his hips, gazing around the room superiorly and taking in a breath. She glared at him.

"As I was saying! Welcome to the 'first' DA meeting. We're initially gathering just to see who's interested and inform you about it, if you've never heard about it," she continued, "But, I'm not leader, so I'll let the person whom is speak." They all focused their attention on Harry.

"Um, well, you all know by now that Voldemort is back," he said. Many flinched. Perhaps the first lesson would be on saying the Dark Lord's name....

"I know we have a pretty good Defense teacher this year, so there's not a critical need for the DA like there was last time—"

"Of course there's a need! Those Death Eaters are crazier than ever!" Dean remarked, cutting him off. The others agreed enthusiastically.

"Every new spell counts," added Hannah Abott. A fourth year raised her hand.

"Yeah?" Harry said.

"What makes you so qualified to teach us?" She received numerous outraged stares. Another Zechariah Smith in the making....

"I'm in NEWT level Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Having fought Voldemort a few times, I know a couple of spells," he tonelessly reported.

"Not to mention he's just about the best Dark Arts student Hogwarts has ever seen," snapped Ginny. Both the girl and Harry flushed with embarrassment.

"Will we need to sign a secrecy pact this time?" questioned Padma.

"No. Last time it was only done because it was illegal for it to be running. Umbridge, however, is thankfully not here anymore." Hermione told her. Harry took the opportunity to look around. Every old DA member still at school was present, as was the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, Rebecca Mesh, Bethany King, and David Rice. He rapidly glanced over at Ron to see if he had noticed the boy as well. His grin told Harry he had spotted Rebecca, not Rice. Well, Harry would just have to make sure he partnered everyone up, wouldn't he?

As everyone prepared to depart, and after the new members had received their "Galleons", a Hufflepuff decided to impart what was on his mind. (Hermione had been talking to David while Ron had started flirting with Rebecca, not noticing an agitated Luna Lovegood).

"Are you two going out?" he loudly pondered, pointing at Parvati and Harry. All eyes and ears were on them. She blushed a little, looking at Harry. He glanced at her.

"That's not why this meeting was called," he coolly stated, "Nor is it really any of your business whether or not we are." The boy immediately dropped his hand. Many people smiled & snickered; Harry winked at Parvati. Hermione, on the other hand, frowned heavily. What was Harry doing?

* * *

Harry had not done much of anything to disprove the article in two days' time, and Parvati had also been unusually mum about it. Mostly everyone figured it was true and Hermione was positively reeling. She was infuriated with Harry for not bothering to tell the truth, thus by encouraging the stupid rumor. By Thursday she took it upon herself to correct whomever she heard.

Thursday also meant Quidditch. The game was going to be after lunch, which meant the school had no afternoon classes. Ron and Harry conversed in low voices during the meal, devising ways to embarrass Rice in the air. Both Houses' teams left the Hall a few minutes before lunch was concluded to many anxious cheers. Harry gave the customary speech while the six others pulled their equipment on, and then they waited for the stands to fill.

When it was safe to leave they filed out of the locker room. Harry brought up the rear, so when he saw two people he recognized under the bleachers, his faltering was ignored. Hermione was speaking to David Rice in a calming voice. He appeared quite nervous and would regularly nod to something she said. Harry gripped his broom so tightly his hand turned white. Why wasn't the Ravenclaw Seeker on the bloody field?! Hermione then kissed David on the cheek, as a sign of reassurance. Harry's jaw dropped. His feet swiftly then began moving (without his brain really knowing) and moments later he caught up to his team, already in line. So, that was it then? Rice pretended to be afraid in order to score pity kisses?! Harry wanted nothing more than to wallop David with his Firebolt. His fellow Gryffindors eyed him with confusion but he ignored it.

"We are missing Ravenclaw's Seeker." Hooch announced to the group, irritated. A second later David ran into his appropriate spot, looking apologetic.

"Sorry," he breathed. The captain quickly leaned over and murmured in David's ear. Harry watched him with dislike and distrust.

"All right—captains, shakes hands."

Flying through the air, Harry pondered over whom Hermione truly wanted to be victorious. He looked over to the Gryffindor section and saw her sitting with her roommates. Ginny scored and yells rang out. (They were up 40-20). Harry searched the pitch for the Snitch momentarily and saw nothing. What did Hermione see in him? _No one _was that perfect; it had to be an act. Sure, they were currently friends, but many times friendship turned into something more. Speak of the devil.... Rice flew by Harry and offered him a genuine, hopeful smile. Harry rolled his eyes and flew off in a different direction, mentally telling Rice to take his smile & stuff it.

90 minutes later, the match was still in progress. Gryffindor had 190 points while Ravenclaw only had 40. The Snitch was apparently on vacation and everyone was tired of the game, even the players. Harry gritted his teeth and cursed the dumb ball for having no decency. Somewhere behind him he heard David Rice yawn. Rice flew into his field of view and opened his mouth to say something. However, in that instance, Harry saw Lauren fly off to try and score another goal, and a flash of gold shoot under him. The Seekers' eyes met. In a whirlwind of blue and scarlet, they took off.

"And the Snitch has _finally _showed itself ladies and gentlemen!" cried Ernie. The audience immediately sat up from slumping and watched the race for the gold. Harry and David weaved in and out of every possible space, in equal pursuit of the Snitch. It looked like a synchronized dance in the air. As Harry pulled up, he silently growled. _Damn it_, the thought, _he's good_.

The winged ball zoomed through the Ravenclaw goalpost and David followed it directly, crouching low. Both boys were now on either side of the Snitch. They crawled forward, hands outstretched. No one made a sound in the stands. His hand then clamped down on the Snitch, a second before the other one could. Ravenclaw erupted in cheersb and Ernie shouted out:

"And Rice catches the Snitch! But, BUT!! Chid scored a goal as soon as the Snitch was spotted! So, that leaves the score 190-200: _Gryffindor _wins!" The lions roared their approval, jumping up and down. The Quidditch team began circling Lauren, praising her. David's team came to congratulate him for closing the humungous gap as Harry slowly descended to the ground, hollow. He hadn't caught the Snitch; Rice had. _He _had lost. On the ground Gryffindor and Ravenclaw supporters happily rallied about, both satisfied with the outcome of the game. (The Ravenclaws were excited their Seeker had beaten the invincible Harry Potter). Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You did your best," he noted. He roughly shrugged his hand off.

"I failed," he snapped.

"But we still _won_."

"Harry, Harry!," someone called. It was Rice, "Good match, Harry. You fly terrifically." Ron scowled but Harry had words for him.

"Bugger off," he snarled. A few people gasped, including Hermione. She stepped forward.

"Harry—"she started. But he was already gone.

* * *

A/N: I probably won't be able to post this weekend, unless I get back early from my "duties" on Sunday. I'll try though! As for the story, it will become more action packed, I suppose you can say, though that's not my main worry. Dumbledore will finally make an appearance and dementors may show up as well, along with a troubled Fudge....


	9. No Snogging in the Corridor

A/N: Importante! Chapter 9 mysteriously disappeared, due to no fault of my own. :Sighs: I have to rewrite it, so bear with me until I do that. :Grumbles: Here is a recap of what happens/happened in it:

1.Harry carries his anger of Rice over into the next day. He realizes his anger is over more than Quidditch—he saw the game as a symbolic thing, meaning Rice won _Hermione _over him.

2.No one (namely Hermione) is really talking to him b/c they feel he is overreacting and being mad for a dumb reason

3.He is moody, so when Malfoy makes fun of him in Potions for "losing", Harry snaps and throws an alligator heart in the Head Boy's face.

4.Snape sees this and gives Harry detention, thereby making the Boy Who Lived even more disgruntled.

5.Harry serves his detention that night by picking grim off the dungeon walls with a pin. He leaves with a sore hand and sour attitude.

6.He meets up with Parvati in the corridor. She talks to him, and he gradually feels better.

7.He feels so uplifted while speaking to her that he ends up compulsively kissing her, which leads to a blissful 10 minute snog out in the open

8.Harry feels guilty after it's done and spends the weekend worrying whether or not someone saw them. (Hermione makes up with him as well).

9.By Monday, after no trace of it being known, he relaxes. He goes to dinner that night only to see most all of the occupants in the Great Hall staring at him.

10.Parvati rushes out and tells him that they were seen on Friday night. Two first years were lost and stumbled upon the two of them snogging. They ended up telling the whole school.

11.Harry's roommates run out of the Hall and bore him away to an empty classroom. There, they interrogate Harry as to what happened with Parvati. He bashfully tells them, and they are ecstatic for him. The chapter ends with the five of them walking back to the Tower and Ron suggesting to Harry to ask Parvati to be his snogging buddy.

Like I said, I'm not looking forward to rewriting it, but I hafta. Stupid… whatever! That made it vanish!


	10. Friends

A/N: Okay, I may have frightened a few people by making Harry and Parvati snog. But rest assured!! This is a H/H fic FOR A REASON. They will eventually get together, and maybe sooner than you think (but not too soon)! I simply wanted to try to mix their love lives up a little, make it realistic. Just wanted to get that off my chest! :D

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 10

This just topped everything. Did Hogwarts' population have nothing better to do than to gossip?! Hermione couldn't believe there was _another_ rumor about Harry & Paravtai, this time suggesting they had made out in a corridor. She thought the fact that first years started it should prove its dependability. Hermione planned to ask Harry how he felt about it Tuesday morning, but a somber mood had broken that.

The owl post arrived and Errol had a letter for Ron & Ginny. (It was a wonder the owl was still living).

"It's from mum," he declared, beginning to read it. Hermione was going to take the opportunity to talk to Harry but he beat her to it, putting forth the subject of their Charms project. He ended by asking her if she'd help him with the Potions essay, which was due the next day.

"All weekend to do it and you're beginning it now?," she critically wondered, "You'll never change Harry." He gave a half-smile.

"Bill's doing a mission for the Order." Ron suddenly said. They looked at him.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Bill. Mum wont' really say what it is, and he doesn't know how long it'll take." Ron's voice was strained. His friends looked at him sadly. They all knew of the large chance that Bill Weasley might not make it out of this ordeal alive. Things were dangerous out there, especially for those trying to bring about Voldemort's demise. Once again, the feeling of responsibility settled in Harry's stomach.

"I'm gonna go... gonna go find Ginny." Ron told them. He left the table and exited the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and ate in silence.

Ron was subdued after receiving the letter. They did as best as they could to make him feel relatively cheerful, and it worked to some avail. But Harry understood Ron's feelings and conceded him to as aloof as he needed to be in order to cope.

In the evening Neville played Ron chess, losing magnificently. It lifted his spirits and one could atone to Neville losing on purpose, but it wasn't that; Ron was just that gifted when it came to the game. Harry sat at table, poring over homework. Hermione was working with him, to offer help if needed. They were doing their Transfiguration homework and Harry knew Ron would be copying his.

"NEWTs are near in the future," she observed. He gaped at her.

"You're kidding, right? _Christmas _is next month!"

"Exactly! I had hoped to have at least half of the library read by then!" Harry shook his head, writing down his unfinished answer. She gazed at the top of his messy head and then remembered something.

"So, you've got yet another rumor about you," Hermione chuckled, "They're more ludicrous with every one!" He looked at her nervously. Crap. The memory of his roommates' reactions flashed in his mind.

"Yeah... crazy." Harry said. He wanted the subject dropped.

"Though this is new. I've never heard one about you snogging a girl," she added. He wanted it dropped _now_. He didn't—couldn't—say a word.

"I must say Harry, if I see you kissing one more girl in the open I'll crack. It's already happened four times this week!"

"Hermione." Harry abruptly said. She looked at him, still smiling. It couldn't go on like this. He had to say something.

"Um, well... I don't—uh," the boy struggled, clearly troubled. It didn't help that at that moment Parvati waved to him from across the room, smiling seductively (in Hermione's opinion, who had seen the gesture). Harry gave a short wave, if that's what it could be titled, and looked awkwardly at his book. Hermione studied him carefully.

"Harry?," she said. He slowly brought his gaze to her face, "Th-that rumor is a lie as well, right?" He quickly glanced at Ron and, now, Colin.

"B-because it doesn't make sense to kiss someone you're not dating, or have feelings for." Ah, the accursed logic.

"Harry." Hermione stated sharply. Her voice had a pleading note to it, however. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing.

"Well... it's sort of true, Hermione. I, er, _did_ kiss Parvati. But, it's all complicated! I was feeling like hell on Friday night, and I ran into Parvati. She made me feel so much better, you know, and I was glad to have her around. Next thing I know, I... we're kissing." Harry confessed. She looked at him blankly, totally out of it.

"But it was a misunderstanding, sort of a heat of the moment thing! She's not my girlfriend and I just want to stay friends," he continued. Oh, that word! Friends! It had no meaning anymore! Harry obviously kissed the _friends _he cared for, which didn't include Hermione. She then corrected herself. From the reports, Harry and Parvati had been too into it for it to be called innocent kissing.

Her eyes began to fill with tears. She quickly fought them off and began collecting her things. She couldn't handle his presence knowing he had been with another girl; it was too much.

"Hermione?" Harry questioned, concerned.

"It's all right Harry," she remarked, "I-I've got to go to the Head Room and do this. It's... noisy in here." Hermione slung her bag on.

"But—"

"I'll see you later." She then ambled off, still not allowing the tears to come. When she was certain she was alone, a sob escaped her. Hermione had never felt so hurt by Harry in her life.

* * *

She decided she couldn't afford to appear shaken on the outside. Hermione knew she'd have to suck up the pain around others, only giving into it in the confines of her own isolation. Hermione could not, for the life of her, acknowledge Parvati and was finding the same held for Harry. The day after finding out Harry's little secret, she did reasonably well in keeping up appearances. However, as the days wore on, Hermione grew more distant with Harry. By the time Friday hit, she's only really said 'hello' and 'goodbye' to him. The weekend marked her reign of total silence. By Tuesday, Harry (and Ron) became concerned.

"Hermione's been really out of it lately," Ron remarked as they headed to Transfiguration.

"Yeah, but only with me." Harry glumly noted.

"What'd you do?"

"I don't know!" he answered, displaying his male ignorance.

"Then... maybe she's just been busy," suggested Ron.

"Maybe." Harry, however, sounded severely doubtful. He'd been in a complete rut without Hermione, but seeing as how he didn't have much of a clue as to what was wrong, he couldn't apologize (if necessary) or try to fix it. Besides, whenever he tried to speak to her, she'd just find some reason to leave.

A few students walked past them, David Rice being among them. He saw Harry and abruptly glanced away, looking highly embarrassed. Harry sighed. He had said nothing else to him since that eventful Quidditch day. Harry figured he should apologize... their second, or first, DA meeting was tomorrow.

"Er—David." Harry stated, putting up an arm. Ron looked at him in alarm while David looked appalled. It seemed as though he was going to hurry off.

"Please. I-I need to talk to you," begged Harry. Rice hesitantly obliged and they moved to a wall. Ron loomed near.

"Look, I just want to apologize for my behavior at the match. It wasn't very... kind of me. I overreacted. Sorry," he explained.

"Oh. Uh... thanks, Harry," David said, pleased and surprised, "That was noble of you."

"You, uh, y-you're a great flier."

"You think so?," he smiled, "Thanks." Ron coughed obnoxiously and Harry took the hint.

"See you tomorrow," said Harry.

"Yeah, see you."

"Why didn't you just kiss him then and there?" asked Ron when Rice was gone.

"Shove it!" Harry angrily ordered.

"What was with the nice act, though?"

"I'd been a git to him," he shrugged. Ron didn't say anything.

At dinner Harry tried a new approach to getting Hermione's attention: mentioning their project.

"It's due next week Hermione. Don't you think we should get together soon and complete it?" he remarked.

"We can do parts separately and then I can check yours and add it to what we already have," she responded, in a tone he had never really heard before.

"But everything is really hard if you do it alone, that's why we have partners." Hermione's book slammed shut and she sighed.

"I can't really talk about this right now. I've got things to finish." Hermione commented. She got up and exited the room, only have eaten three bites. Harry covered his face in his hands and groaned, shaking his head.

"See? Busy." Ron feebly encouraged.

The next day his roommates were curious of his standing with Parvati. He told them he didn't know and assured a disappointed Ron he wasn't going to ask her to be his snogging partner. But where did they stand? Harry and Parvati had yet to analyze what had happened, but he supposed he was to blame for that; he hadn't had, or made, much time for discussion with her.

In Charms Harry scribbled a note to her asking if she'd meet him at dusk near the lake. Parvati spelled out 'Yes' with her wand as a reply, a smile lighting her face. Hermione, whom had abandoned Harry to sit on the other side of the room, witnessed Parvati's spell and the bemused grin on her trampy face.

Harry stood by the beechnut tree, collar up and hands in pocket. It might be cold but thank Merlin it wasn't snowing. He thought dully of Hermione as he waited for Parvati. Would she honestly go through the entire DA meeting without so much as one word to him? Would she even show up? Parvati's voice brought him out of it.

"Hey!" He turned.

"Hi," Harry retorted, "Do you mind if we sit?"

"No." They plopped on the ground, Parvati sitting in close proximity of him.

"So, erm... about the night we..." he began.

"Snogged?" she helped.

"Yeah. Uh, I was wondering how you felt about it."

"Well, it was nice Harry—_really _nice—but I don't fully understand why you kissed me."

"Neither do I." Harry muttered.

"It confused me, also, on the level wheter or not it was a one time thing or if... I dunno... you'd want to do it again," Parvati explained. She looked out to the lake while saying this and then back at him, "Are you _looking _for a girlfriend?" Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead, thinking.

"To be truthful Parvati, I... I don't think I am," (Well, he _did _have a witch in mind but that road was gruesomely complicated), "I think I kissed you that night because... because I felt like rubbish and then you made me feel loads better, and I was glad to have you as a friend."

"So you decided to snog me to show your gratitude," she noted. He smiled weakly.

"It was wrong of me to do, I know. One of those sudden impulses, I guess. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression or anything. I really like that fact that we're friends." Harry said. Parvati looked out to the water again.

"I get it Harry. I was just another girl to snog that week. Another one off the list, huh?," Harry's mouth flew open in fright, "So who's the girl _this _Friday? You know, you've got a lot of nerve thinking you can just satisfy your little desires and disregard how your receivee feels!" His lips moved soundlessly, trying their hardest to emit noise.

"Parv—it's not—I... you've got—I would nev—"Parvati then collapsed in laughter. Harry slowly closed his mouth.

"I'm joking Harry!," she admitted, "I just wanted to see your reaction! That was great!"

"Ha ha," Harry hoarsely said, the feeling coming back to his stomach. She giggled.

"I'm sorry Harry, I just had to do it," Parvati cleared her face, "I understand though, Harry, I really do."

"You're n-not, mad, or anything, are you?" She exhaled.

"Not mad, but a little sad. I'll just tell the truth—I sort of hoped we could be _more _than friends. I rather fancy you, but that's probably the Potter charm at work."

"What d'you mean?" Harry inquired, blushing.

"My mum went to school with your parents and was pointlessly in love with your dad, along with half of the females there. Nothing too serious, mind you," Parvati told him. He smiled, "But I'm not too put out, no, especially since we'll still remain friends."

"Without a doubt," he guaranteed her. She smiled.

"Well, the sun has now set and I am hungry. I think I'll be going in." Parvati announced. "Meeting at eight." Harry reminded her.

"Yes, yes," She studied him for a minute then leaned over & whispered in his ear, "Just so you know, you're an excellent kisser, Potter. I'll be sure to pass it along." Parvati kissed his cheek, stood up, and walked back to Hogwarts. Harry's face reddened for the second time.

* * *

He had planned to corner Hermione at the DA meeting; however, that didn't work out well. She kept annoyingly close to Rice and Ginny, and would openly talk to anyone but Harry (and Parvati for that matter). When they were practicing their incantations, a review of the Shielding Charm & Disarming Spell, Harry was tempted to partner everyone and have Hermione as his. He erased that thought upon seeing her disgruntled face; it was if she could read his mind and knew what he was plotting. The idea came to him again when the meeting was almost over and they were practicing their final spells, though this time he acted on it. Hermione appeared very perturbed as she faced him. Harry had gotten five words out before he hit the floor, thanks to her spell. Harry had been embarrassed in front of everyone _and _had gotten not any bit further with her. Hermione left the Room of Requirement with David at her side, not bothering to stay behind with Harry and Ron like she usually did.

* * *

A/N: Do a monkey dance! Another chapter down! I shall post again on Wednesday. Next chapter: a confrontation with Dumbledore and a Harry who has had enough of Hermione's snubbing. 


	11. Fate and Jealousy

A/N: Nothing to say at the beginning of the chapter, but I do have things to say at the end.

**Be0t: **I made Harry come off as a jerk?? Hmm... I suppose I might have, what with him impulsively snogging Parvati with no _true_ feelings there...But what can I say?

**MoonieDream: **Yes, Harry is rather slow. Lol.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 11

Harry caught up to Fate on Thursday. He had just gotten back from Quidditch practice at 8:30 when Minerva McGonagall caught up to him.

"Potter, the headmaster wishes to see you," she somberly told him. He and Ron looked at one another.

"Can I—"began Ron.

"No Weasley. The matter doesn't pertain to you." He frowned but wasn't too disappointed. Harry would tell him what happened anyway.

"Do I have to go now?" asked Harry.

"It's best," McGonagall shortly responded, "Just come with me." She shooed Ron off and then headed towards Dumbledore's office, Harry following. She gave the password (jelly-jinxed giraffes) and the gargoyle made way. When they were on the landing, McGonagall pushed the door open and they walked in. Albus Dumbledore was giving a roll of parchment to Fawkes, along with verbal instructions. A moment later the bird was gone and the old wizard had turned around.

"Ah, thank you Minerva," he started. She nodded curtly and left, "Please sit Harry." Harry slumped into the chair in front of the desk and Dumbledore sat in the one behind it.

"How have you been Harry?" Dumbledore questioned after some silence. The boy shrugged.

"Okay, I suppose," he remarked, not wanting entirely to have to speak to the headmaster.

"You've been keeping busy, which is good, between Quidditch, school work, and, for lack of a better phrase, your personal life." He gave a slight smile. So Dumbledore had most likely been spying on him, huh? And he knew about the Parvati rumors.... What gave him the smallest inkling it'd be all right to allude to that, or that Harry would actually comment on it?! Harry didn't say anything and tried to work up a scowl.

"I am also aware of the reformation of the DA." Dumbledore noted. The scowl quickly fell away. Harry shifted in his seat.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"I am glad you have taken the initiative to commence it once more. I know last year you were in no mood to attempt to do so.... I bring this up because it is linked to the reason why I asked for your presence tonight," He sighed heavily, briefly closing his eyes, "I do not wish to plague your mind with awful thoughts, but I feel I must discuss with you the subject of Voldemort." Harry almost snorted.

"Plague my mind?," he inquired, "It's too late for that, Professor. It seems as though Voldemort has been lurking in my head ever since I found out _I _have to kill him. You know, that lovely prophecy you kept from me."

"Yes, the prophecy," Dumbledore meekly said, "I am truly sorry, Harry. I know you do not believe me and want me to cease repeating that, but I am apologizing for so many things."

"It's not like it's going to change anything." Harry gruffly commented.

"You're right, it will not," He sighed again, "I will be honest with you Harry—I feel the time for the prophecy to be fulfilled is approaching." Harry stared at Dumbledore. Good God, no. He had just expressed what Harry himself had suspected, but that mean he, Harry, wanted it to be true! It was as if his death had just been signed, making it secure and binding. Was Dumbledore implying only a few months remained in which Harry would surely live? He looked out of a window, not able to speak.

"Voldemort is on a rampage. Each deed becomes brasher, as I'm sure you've read and heard about. There is currently information he is planning a major dementor attack on the wizarding community, location unknown. We are trying to get more information on that. I think he can sense it too, Harry. He knows that time is running low and is getting desperate." Dumbledore grimly reported, eyes on Harry. _Then why doesn't he just finish it now? Come after me, kill me—he'll _surely _win_, he thought sadistically. The fire crackled in the background as the old wizard studied the young wizard, who pointedly did not return the gaze.

"Have you told anyone?" Dumbledore quietly asked.

"No," Harry snapped, finally looking at him, "I didn't have the heart, though I suppose I should get on it seeing as how I probably won't live to see April Fool's Day!"

"Harry—"

"Can you tell me something, _Professor_? How am I supposed to defeat him? I allegedly have this secret power , but it does me absolutely no damn good since I have no idea what it is! How do I defend myself against the darkest wizard in history?! The clock is ticking but I've had no training, no preparation—_nothing_! I'm supposed to use my school education as a tool, huh? It's pitiful compared to his knowledge! I am going to die! D'you realize that?!" Harry shouted, suddenly on his feet and using everything he possessed to not cry. Dumbledore looked broken.

"So young for such a burden," he murmured, shaking his head in grief.

He stood up and walked to his fireplace, "You are correct Harry, yet again. You are going to need help." Dumbledore threw powder into the flames and they changed colors. He said numerous names and then straightened up. Harry watched with anger and confusion. Moments later, witches and wizards emerged from the fireplace. Severus Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, Emmeline Vance, Higgins, and Hagrid were all present. Hagrid & Tonks gave him sad, encouraging smiles, and the look Snape gave him was implacable.

Harry sank slowly into his chair.

"Every professor, Auror, and/or member of the Order here is to help you prepare, Harry. I myself, the Weasleys, and Remus are also at your disposal," Dumbledore calmly explained. Harry had his hand covering his face, hidden, "We will train you here on your free nights, and during the holidays as well. You are not alone in this, Harry," he told him. A sob escaped the boy and wracked his body. He should have been horrified to do this in front of Hagrid, Snape, and Moody but he didn't give a damn at the moment if he came off as weak. Apparently neither did anyone else. The only one to move was Tonks, who walked over to Harry and gave him a small hug, a tear falling down her cheek.

Hermione was making her way back to Gryffindor Tower at ten after nine. She had been in the library working on a Muggle Studies essay. (She had not used the Head Room's resources because Malfoy and some Slytherin girl occupied the room). She rubbed the back of her neck just as someone brushed past her, knocking her elbow.

"Hey!" she protested. The person turned around. It was Harry and he looked wretched.

"H-Harry?" inquired Hermione, becoming very worried. What had happened to him?

"Sorry," he steely stated before leaving. Hermione opened her mouth to call after him but closed it. She wanted so badly to go after him but knew it wasn't a good idea. He had appeared in no mood to discuss anything and she was supposed to be giving him the silent treatment. But goodness... he had looked so troubled it was distressing.

* * *

Harry didn't go to breakfast or his first class (Defense) the next day. When Ron reported his absence from the session to Hermione, she made a resolution: the no-talking-to-Harry bit was over. Something was wrong and she had to speak to him. Ron didn't know why Harry was upset either, having forgotten about his meeting with Dumbledore, and suggested they confront him after their last class of the day. (Ron was personally, if not strangely, glad something had happened to Harry; Hermione was willing to end her one sided feud because of it). 

Harry skipped lunch to sit in the Astronomy Tower and think. He'd originally planned to no go to his afternoon class but decided it was a bad idea. His friends were probably worried and would raise an alarm if he missed another lesson, thereby causing a school search for him. With ten minutes left before he had to depart, Harry made a resolution as well; he was going to try and appease Hermione, but this time he would be firmer about it. With God knew how much of his life he had left, he had no room for disputes with friends (even if it _wasn't _his fault).

When Harry put himself back into the throng of Hogwarts students, he noticed two things: the people he knew were beside themselves with relief and he was attracting stares again. In class, Transfiguration, Hermione actually _smiled _at him. He thought he had imagined it but Ron saw it too. She looked like she had something to say, but knew she'd catch heat from McGonagall if she mouthed or wrote anything. Harry wanted to talk to her after class but couldn't, because she left right afterwards.

"Where'd she go?" Harry asked Ron panicked.

"Oh, she had to go to her tutoring session," he replied.

"Hermione needs a tutor?!"

"Of course not twit! _She _tutors some third year in Arithmancy."

"Oh. Well, you saw her smile at me right?" Harry said, hurt he didn't know that fact.

"Yeah. She wants to talk to you mate, by the way," noted Ron.

"Really?!" His spirits flew.

"Uh huh. So... what _did _happen yesterday? I mean, you're okay aren't you?" His spirits fell. Harry couldn't tell Ron the truth, not yet. He told his best friend a lie he had thought over, and quickly advised him to forget about it. The weekend had just started for Merlin's sake....

As the day quickly wore on and neared an end, Harry noticed the stares all came from the females, and maybe he was just crazy or something, but were they directed at his lips?! Some girls looked longingly, some skeptically, and he was sure he heard one witch say:

"It makes sense; he's good at everything else."

Hermione came in for dinner later and didn't stay on top of that.

"Hi Ron, Harry! Unfortunately I've got this project to work on so I can't stay," she greeted, grabbing a roll.

"For Transfiguration?! Hermione, it's not due until—"Ron heatedly began. She held up a hand, silencing him. Her attention was on Harry now and he felt great.

"Um, d'you think you can meet me at 8:30? In the common room?" she inquired.

"Sure." Harry eagerly responded.

"Good," smiled Hermione, "See you later then!"

"Let me guess, _I'm _not involved in this little meeting of yours?" Ron darkly commented, when she had gone. Harry swiftly looked at him, appalled.

"W-what?" he wondered, refusing to believe Ron might be somewhat jealous, "Well... I d-don't know. She probably just wants to know what was up with me, which _you _already know."

"Ah, I was just messing around Harry! I know that! I didn't mean anything by it," he confessed. Harry relaxed. What was with everyone and joking with him?! And despite Ron's proclamation that he had been kidding, Harry couldn't help but feel truth had lingered in those words for Ron.

Harry strolled into common room at 8:30 to see Hermione standing by the fireplace, throwing (or rather _hurling_) parchment into the flames.

"Uh, burning anything of importance?" he greeted, grinning doubtfully.

"No. Just rubbish," she answered. She gave him a smile. Her brown eyes, however, looked livid.

"Okay. So... what did you want to talk about?" Harry pondered. She faltered for a minute, relishing his anguished face yesterday. She had wanted to know the source of his problem, but at the moment, her fury stood in its place.

"Nothing." Hermione shortly said.

"Huh?" Harry didn't comprehend. What did she mean nothing? Why had she asked to meet him?!

"I don't have anything to say anymore, Harry," she remarked. He then actually let out a laugh, throwing up his arms in defeat.

"You can't be serious!"

"I am," she snapped. What the hell had happened in a few hours' time for her to do a total 180 on him?!

"This isn't fair Hermione!," Harry told her, "One second you act as if I'm invisible! The next, you decide to _finally _speak to me, or so I think! You turn around and close up again!"

"Things change!" Hermione argued.

"What things?! And that quickly?! I have no bloody idea what is wrong with you! You're being ridiculous!" he yelled.

"If I'm such a bother, then I think it's best that I just go!," she shouted, "You know, since I'm _beyond _ridiculous!" Hermione snatched her bag and rushed past him.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded. So much for fixing the problem. Somehow, he had managed to piss her off once again and was still in the dark as to how.

"Rounds with Malfoy!," she indecorously said, though they weren't for a good 20 minutes, "And don't you _dare_ speak to me as though I'm your child!" He covered his glasses with his hand and laughed, completely at wit's ends. It was hopeless.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing! Perhaps you'll also be happy to know that according to Parvati Patil, you kiss marvelously! She has the envy of every girl at Hogwarts, I'm sure!" Hermione cried. Harry looked up to see the portrait hole closing and no Hermione. He stood there, stunned. What had she said? The attention he had received that day replayed in his head. Oh no.... Parvati's revelation from the lake suddenly surfaced. Well, it appeared as if she had kept her word. _"I'll be sure to pass it along." _

Harry collapsed onto a couch, still shocked. So _that's _why Hermione had suddenly become upset. But... but _why _had it upset her? It shouldn't have, unless she was—whoa, no, she could _never _be that. Harry then remembered Hermione's abrupt departure when he had divulged to snogging Parvati. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Merlin... was Hermione jealous?!

* * *

A/N: Sorry bout this chapter being shorter than the other short chapters, lol. For those wondering why Hagrid was among the others to help Harry... I dunno. I just thought he fit there. Lol! The next chapter consists of revelations galore! I'll post on Saturday :D 


	12. The Kiss

A/N: This is the longest chapter yet, I think.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 12

Harry left Hermione alone on the weekend. He was now angry with her for treating him like hippogriff dung and giving no real reason why, but was also confused. Ron asked what had happened on Friday night and Harry told him every detail, leaving out Hermione's last remark. Ron went to Hermione about it and got a curt, "It's none of your business". He was outraged and left her alone as well. Harry did, however, begin his training. He met with Kingsley, Higgins and Tonks, separately, in Dumbledore's office. He had a damn difficult time keeping it from Ron, and came back from each meeting exhausted. They were teaching him Auror and advanced magic, and it wasn't fun. Harry wondered when he would ultimately find the courage and time to tell his loved ones about the prophecy.

Harry sat in the library, researching books for his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Yesterday he and Hermione had turned in their Charms project. They had to give a small presentation and were exceptionally formal, with one another and the audience. Professor Flitwick thought they had done a superior job and Harry marveled as to why he thought so—they had done maybe 40 of it together.

He growled, slamming the book shut. Nothing in there was of use. Harry wondered what Hermione was doing.

"Hi Harry," said Ginny Weasley. He looked up. She stood before his table, book in arm, "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all," he mumbled. She took a chair.

"How've you been?" Ginny inquired. Harry looked at her wryly.

"Right. Not so great," she smiled guiltily, "Hermione… yeah."

"What about you? Things going well with Colin?" he replied. Ginny and Colin had secretly started dating a couple of week ago. Mostly everyone knew about it but they had yet to officially come public because of one reason: Ron.

"Things _are _going well," she retorted, blushing a bit.

"When are you going to tell Ron?"

"Never, if I can help it." Harry laughed and then said:

"Maybe he'll get over it when he has his own girl."

"And then again, maybe not," Ginny mused, opening her book, "And I know he'll just tell the rest of our brothers." They worked in silence for about five minutes before a nagging question began to pester Harry.

"Ginny?" he prompted.

"Hmm?" she answered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh huh."

"What's with Hermione?" She ceased writing and looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that she's been ignoring me, and I wondered if you knew why. I tried to get an answer out of her but only got vague responses and more anger." Harry explained. She frowned.

"You truly have no clue as to why she's troubled?" Ginny inquired. He snorted.

"No! She refuses to speak to me, for whatever her motive!"

"Well, she definitely has her reasons."

"It'd be nice if she let me in on them! Instead, she wants to irritate _me _by acting like a stubborn brat!" he vented.

"Don't you think 'brat' is a bit harsh?" she steely asked.

"Not in the least bit." Harry flatly said. Ginny sighed.

"Maybe you should try to talk to her."

"Again?"

"It may work—" she began.

"Yeah, right," he forcefully stated. Ginny shot him a perilous look.

"Then maybe you should just _think _of what you could have done wrong."

"I have, and have come up with nothing." Harry observed, pushing the Parvati issue to the back of his mind. He wasn't even sure about that….

"Hermione is a girl, Harry," she exasperatedly told him, "She's going to be upset over things _you _don't think much of! Or things you do, not considering anyone else's feelings about the matter." He gazed blankly at her.

"Are you implying that I'm inconsiderate?" Harry pondered.

"Sort of, not exactly, and only at times."

"You're being just as vague as Hermione! What are—"

"Merlin Harry," Ginny hissed, eyes closed, "Hermione is hurt because of the Parvati thing, all right!" He blinked several times, staring at her.

"But… I… why? I don't understand why she'd be _that _disturbed over it," he said. She had used the word _hurt_.

"Think about it Harry," she advised him, gathering her work, "I'll see you at practice." Ginny then left the library. Harry was speechless.

The following day, it rained. Hermione's chin rested on the top of her fist as she lethargically made her way through the corridor. She felt no need to hurry back to Gryffindor Tower; it wasn't exactly pleasant for her there, what with awkward silence and silent hostility between she and her friends. She couldn't believe it was already the middle of November and mediated over how long this distance from Harry would last. Hermione just didn't know when she'd be able to get over the image of Harry giving his (much wanted) affection to Parvati.

Hermione sighed and swept her hair back with a hand. A little further ahead, she recognized David speaking with Rebecca Mesh. The two of them laughed and then Rebecca waved goodbye. She smiled at Hermione as they passed one another; the Head Girl returned it.

"Hi David." Hermione addressed, grinning.

"Hey Hermione," he hailed, "I'm really glad to see you—I need to talk to you."

"Oh, okay. I just walked by an empty classroom."

"That's perfect." Hermione & David turned around and returned to the deserted room.

"Look Hermione, I'll just be frank," he said, facing her after the door was shut, "I think you're amazing."

"Thank you," she blushed.

"There's more to it than that. Um… I know we've maybe not known each other for as long as you would've liked, but—"

"Well, maybe not, but we've gotten to know one another quite well, right?" Hermione interjected, assuming his speech was headed somewhere negative. True, she _did _wish she could have gotten to know David sooner; he was an exemplary person.

"Yes, yes, definitely," David said, his face lighting up, "It's just… I don't know what you look for in a bloke, or if you're even interested in this at the moment, but… I just thought I'd inquire as to whether or not you might want to go out with me." Wow. Hermione looked at him, a forlorn smile on her face. Oh goodness.

Yes, she indeed cared for him, and knew he was a terrific person, but… unfortunately, that certain emotion was absent for her. Hermione had originally thought she could come to like David in a romantic way, but as she began to spend time with him, the only thing that had blossomed was the potential for an intense friendship. Besides, if anything, her heart was already taken—taken by a boy with black hair, glasses, and who had no regard for it. She wished she could move past Harry, wanted to do so very badly, but could not, and that scared her.

_Why _did he have to bring this subject up! She supposed she would just have to open her mouth and tell him the truth, as difficult as it was going to be.

"David, I… uh… wow," Hermione said, chuckling nervously, "David, I like you—I really do. I just… I'm not really in the market for a boyfriend. As of right now, I'm not fully… ready. I'm sorry." He appeared rather put out but tried to recover as quickly as possible. Hermione bit her fingernails, a guilty and sad look on her face.

"I'm sorry David," she whispered, "Please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you." David remarked, looking a bit shocked.

"You're not going to avoid me now, are you? You won't swear me off? Because I'd be devastated if you did." She was near tears and he sensed that.

"God, of course not," he confirmed, hugging her, "No, I won't. It'd be absurd! You aren't prepared, I understand that wholly. I'm more than privileged to have you as a friend, Hermione." She nodded her head.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed into his robes.

"It's okay! Please, stop apologizing." Hermione sniffed. God, sometimes she _hated _Harry; only he could do this to her. She wanted her heart back from him.

&

Harry walked dazedly through the castle, his feet doing the guiding since his mind was elsewhere. He had just gotten back from Hagrid's hut having completed a session (yes, in the freezing rain). Many people assumed that Hagrid had a very limited knowledge of magic, having dropped out third year, but the man surprisingly knew of quite a quite a few powerful spells.

However, the sole issue occupying Harry's mind was Hermione. He had thought about nothing else since his talk with Ginny in the library. Had she confirmed that Hermione was indeed jealous of Parvati, or had she meant something else? Or to really go off the deep end, could it be the least bit possible that Hermione might… well, might feel something more than friendship! Harry concluded that he was probably heavily delusional but could not shake the thoughts. Something lingering in the abyss of his brain (most likely hope?) told him to push the subject.

But it was just too much! The intelligence that Hermione might possess feelings for him was mind blowing, and yet frighteningly exhilarating. He supposed the only way to find out was to speak to her (if he ever found out at all). Though, given the current situation, it was highly probable Hermione wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the year, and what a comforting idea _that _was.

Harry missed her dreadfully. Her little strike had gone on for too long and it now angered him. He thought about Ginny's suggestion of attempting conversation, once more. He could _make _her listen to him…. Goodness, why couldn't she just give him a chance!

Harry cleared his throat as he saw someone turn the corner, leading directly into the corridor he was walking down. He glanced at the person and upon seeing whom it was, resorted to staring. Hermione gazed back at him, alarmed. For awhile they merely looked at each other, she uneasily and he, seriously. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and quickly turned, leaving him. Harry started and made after her; their time to figure things out had come in his opinion.

"Hermione," he called. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Damn it, he was going to follow her.

"Go away Harry," she commanded, speeding up.

"No," Harry responded, "Not until we talk. Please."

"I don't want to."

"Hermione, this is—"

"Leave me alone!" Hermione commenced speed walking/jogging, praying to make it to the Head Room before he caught up. Harry gave a small scoff, brows furrowed. Was she trying to escape him! She really didn't want to make this easy, did she?

"Hermione!" he half growled.

She ran up to the Head Room's portrait, cursing Harry for being so fast. Her lead on him had disappeared; he was practically behind her. She harshly whispered the password and plowed inside, begging it to close immediately.

"Don't you dare close on me!" Harry told the picture. Hermione trotted to the sitting area, only to hear Harry tumble inside of the room. She clenched her fists, refusing to cry.

"Hermione," he said. She had never wished for Draco Malfoy so much in her six years of knowing him. Why wasn't he in the room? Where was the ferret when you needed him! Hermione collected whatever it was she needed to compose herself and turned around. He looked resolute and annoyed.

"I should kick you out this instance," she told him, "Get out."

"Try it," he answered. She drew her wand and directed it at his chest.

"You wouldn't." Harry dryly commented.

"Try _me_."

"Do you want me gone that badly?"

"Yes." Hermione stated.

"Why are you avoiding me!" he suddenly cried out, walking closer.

"I'm not," she insisted, faltering. Her wand dropped to her side and she stepped back.

"Bullocks! That's a lie and you know it! You haven't said a civil word to me for two weeks—half a _month_!"

"Well, I have spoken to you!"

"Yeah, to _yell _at me! Hermione, I can't go on like this. You have no right to be angry with me and then decline in telling me why!" Harry explained malignantly.

"Oh, that's odd! _You're _lecturing me on the right thing to do! Since when are you Mr. Morality!" Hermione shouted, her own wrath returning. She dropped her wand in aggravation.

"There you go again! I don't have the sli--," He stopped himself, sighing wearily, "No, forget it. I'm not going to argue. I'm entirely sick of it." She studied him in surprise but continued to wear a furious face.

"I just want to know what I did to you, Hermione. It's hard not speaking to you. I… miss you," said Harry meekly, "If I could fix the problem I would, or will, but I have to know what it is."

"It's not that simple Harry," Hermione replied softly, all fury gone from her demeanor. She felt like lying down on the sofa, "It's complex and, just… I don't feel like discussing it."

"Even though it's about me? I don't understand what I could have done to have made you so agitated." She shook her head, arms crossed. Harry looked at her dejectedly and was reminded of Ginny's words. Something new inside of him screamed not to press the issue, or even bring it up, but he resolved to pay it no heed. He displayed his Gryffindor bravery and decided to put it out on the table.

"Does… does it have anything to do with… Parvati?" Her eyes immediately met his.

"Why would you assume that?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"I don't know. It's more of a guess than anything, but… I've noticed a few things."

"What things?" Hermione sharply pondered. This time he shook his head.

"If this _was _all over Parvati, I'm sorry. I-if my kissing her is what you're upset about, I'm sorry, really. I've already apologized to her about it and will probably never feel good about my actions. It was completely stupid of me." She stared to the right of her, arms still locked. After uneasy silence, she quietly asked:

"What made you do it? _Why'd _you do it, Harry?" He stared at her, taken aback. Dear Lord, this _was _all over Parvati. He felt as heavy as cement. Could this mean?….

"Because I'm an idiot," Harry lowly retorted, "Hermione… why do you care so much?" She shut her eyes, wincing. Her hands gripped her upper arms tighter. He tried to ignore this and went on.

"I know it was wrong of me and all, but, you act as if… as if you—"

"See Harry? I _told _you I didn't feel like talking about this! It's just dumb, a-and painful!" Hermione interrupted, pitching her arms out. It looked as if tears threatened her.

"Why is it painful? Please, tell me," Harry remarked. His heart rate had sky rocketed and he took a step closer, "Because i-if it has to do with feelings, I'd like to know." She appeared as though someone had slapped her. Her arms dropped slowly.

"W-What?" she whispered. _No! Stop! Don't you have the audacity to risk saying anything more_, the fear in Harry yelled.

"I-I'd be able to relate because… well, because it's painful for me to see you with David," Hermione's breathing shortened and he moved nearer yet, without her noticing. He couldn't have stopped talking for all the gold in Gringott's, "I think I have feelings for you, Hermione. Actually… I _know _I do." Her eyes frantically began searching the room as she struggled to maintain normal breathes. This couldn't be happening; it was impossible. There was no way on Earth Harry was confessing to harboring feelings for her. _He's—he's lying; he _can't _care about you, _Hermione hysterically thought, _remember Parvati_!

"Hermione." Harry said. She fixed her gaze on him. My, he was close, and wore a sad but hopeful expression. _God, what have you just done Potter? And why does she look so… gorgeous?_

"Harry," Hermione pleadingly started, disregarding the fact that he looked downright endearing, "I don't—you can't… it's… we—"

"I'm not lying, Hermione. In fact, I don't think I've been so sure about anything in my life." She bit her lip and wrung her hands. Okay, if she just composed herself and tried again….

Harry took her hands in his and pulled her right up to him. She watched everything he did in fear and anticipation, reasoning she could stop him. The only problem with that was she felt paralyzed. Did he have to look like that! He cautiously lowered his face to her level and lingered above her lips for a moment. Should he? _For Merlin's sake-- do it_, he advised himself. Hermione shut her eyes once more, praying for him to stop and go on. She inhaled and the next thing she felt was his lips against hers. Hermione felt her knees almost give way. Harry kissed her languidly and with a charming shyness, savoring the sensation of experiencing her lips for the first time. He let go of her hands and held her face. His nose brushed hers as he ceased fleetingly and moved to the other side, where he kissed her more passionately. His heart felt like it was going to erupt. His hands entangled themselves in her hair.

Hermione didn't oppose to Harry's sudden decision of kissing, which made her legs feel like jello. In fact, it seemed too good to be true. However, she didn't precisely kiss him back; she was much too dazed. _This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening, _she told herself. Her best friend, for whom she had been smitten by for two and a half years, was _not _acting on his alleged feelings. Harry Potter, of all people, was _not _kissing _her_. _Dear God, this _is _happening_.

Hermione's eyes flew open. She agonizingly pulled away from him, tears freely falling down her face. She couldn't let him continue—it wasn't right. She was not going to let him play with her emotions, yet again. Hermione couldn't take being his little pawn and felt taken advantage of. What did he want from her! Was he _trying_ to break her!

"What?" Harry asked, worried.

"You can't… you can't do this to me," she noted.

"Do what? Hermione, I—"

"No Harry. I just cannot _deal _with this right now!" Hermione wept. She fled his side and ran up the incline to the exit. The next moment Hermione was gone, leaving behind a distraught Harry.

&

A/N: Ha ha! Cliffhanger of the week! So, it finally happened. :Sighs: I feel like I made it happen too soon, but oh well. I don't know when, or if, I'll be able to post next week—it's Thanksgiving break and I'm going home! If I can get to a computer and I actually feel like posting, I will. If not, chapter 13 will be up the week I get back. Sorry! Anyway, don't forget to tell a friend about the greatness of Harry Potter and have a good night!


	13. Moving On

A/N: After a week of blessed vacation, I have returned to my college and this fic. He he he. The story is fun, college is not. (It sux). Anyway, here is chapter 13. Thank you to **Papercut04 **for the review!!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 13

Ron noticed things between Harry and Hermione had gone from irritation to flat out discomfort. Harry had come back to their room one night after another detention with Snape (really his lesson with Hagrid) looking as though his puppy had died, or rather _every _puppy in Britain had snuffed it, and had not been the same since. Hermione now regarded Harry with fear as opposed to her former vexation, and couldn't look at him for the love of Godric Gryffindor. And the worst part was neither one of them would talk about "the change". Ron expected Hermione to be aloof about what had happened but had not expected her to almost give way to crying. Her reaction rattled him and he let her be. As for Harry, he wouldn't tell Ron anything, which the redhead found strange and unsettling. Harry told him everything! Ron gave up on the issue, but not before talking to a few people about it. He was disturbed that their strong friendship had been partially shattered.

Hermione was in the worst emotional state she had ever been in. Her feelings were shot and absolutely jumbled. The sound of Harry's name or his own voice brought her grief, and the sight of him terrified her. (She ended up missing the third DA meeting, which earned Ron & Harry concerned questions of her whereabouts. Harry answered them blandly). He wanted to cause her pain, didn't he? He had kissed her just to play with her mind. Yes, he had claimed to actually have feelings for her but Hermione swore to herself that couldn't be true. Harry was in no position to care for her—she wasn't good enough for him! And what was more, she was his best friend, his average best friend. It was cruel for him to hint that such a thing was possible.

Besides, hadn't he courted around Parvati up to this point, playing childish games? Harry had snogged her and then admitted to not liking her in that way. How did Hermione know he wasn't doing the same thing again? She didn't. But… he _had _looked heartbroken when speaking to her in the Head Room, and sounded so sincere. Then there was his dislike for David, which had stemmed from conceivably nowhere. _"Because it's painful for me to see you with David."_ And that kiss… oh sweet heaven, that kiss. Hermione would sometimes find herself in a trance, remembering the essence of him. The feel of his incredible lips on hers had made her shiver, igniting every part of her body with lust. Being that close to Harry took away whatever sense of self she had; she had lost herself in his intoxicating touch. Hermione wanted to feel that way, and to return the affection, again so much it was pitiful, but she kept herself in line. All she had to do was remind herself it was a mistake, a unfair mistake.

Harry, meanwhile, was a hollow shell. He felt utterly empty. She had rejected him, and even worse, _ran _from him. He went through his training sessions without much talk but performed well, so his instructors couldn't very well question him. Where had he gone wrong? Well, obviously with the kiss—it had seemingly been too bold—but he could have sworn she felt… _something _for him! (Her response, however, conveyed that she possibly hated him). It didn't make sense to Harry; Hermione had made it blatantly clear that she detested Harry & Parvati together, but when he had expressed his feelings for her, she had freaked out even worse. What did she want? He knew what he wanted: her. Sadly there was no way around it, nor was there a substitution. Harry felt like he had received a dementor's kiss since Hermione had turned her back on him, which deeply shook him. He didn't want to lose her in any sense, but felt he had accomplished just that. He deliberated if the kiss had been worth it.

Half of Harry had no regret over kissing Hermione whatsoever. The other half only felt regret because she avoided him now because of it, though the first half wisely pointed out she had been avoiding him _before _he had made his move. Side one argued viciously that he had meant every bit of what he had done and had enjoyed it as well, which was true. Kissing her had been the single best experience in his life, and it had felt so _right_. Her lips were painstakingly soft and cruelly inviting. Harry felt the moment had been pure bliss but much too short. He wanted to run his hands through her hair again, caress her—show her how much she meant to him. Unfortunately, Harry felt he might not get that chance, ever.

* * *

Hermione laid curled up in a ball, under the covers, on her bed, the drapes partially open so that moonlight could enter. She realized with sudden pain that she wanted Harry to the point where it was crushing her. As a renegade tear escaped down her face, she also knew that her fear was the ultimate dominating force in her head. Why couldn't things be simple?

* * *

"The Hogsmeade trip is really soon, the second weekend of December—just before the holiday which is good because that's when I can buy everyone's gifts." Ron said. 

"Yeah." Harry quietly replied. He stared out of a window with his arms on the rests, watching the light snowfall. The two sat in the common room.

"I've decided to take your advice—I'm going to ask Rebecca!"

"Hmm." Ron looked warily at the Boy Who Lived.

"So… so you're going to Grimmauld Place for Christmas? Mum said we'll be there as well, though I don't know if that includes Percy. Hell, I don't even know if Dad _wants _him there!" he reported. Harry nodded.

"I, uh, have no idea what Hermione's plans are." Harry glanced exasperatedly at Ron before gazing out of the window once more.

"Harry," sighed Ron, caving in, "You know, you can tell me what happened with Hermione, mate. It may help!"

"It won't," he grumbled, too low for Ron to hear.

"I just wish things would go back to the way things were with you and Hermione. You two are miserable and have been for a good month!"

"I'm not." Harry lied, again, too quiet for Ron's ears. Ron sadly shook his head.

"Harry, seriously—you can tell me what's wrong," he assured.

"I know, Ron." Harry told him, abandoning the window's scenery. Ron leaned back in his chair, somewhat comforted. _But that doesn't mean I'm going to_, Harry thought. If Ron found out Harry had kissed Hermione, whatever little stability he had left in his life would disappear. He had already driven one of the closest people to him away; Harry did not need to do it to the other.

* * *

"We have another project!," Professor Flitwick announced in Charms. A few groans emitted, "I have taken the liberty of selecting your partners for you, so there is no need to do so." 

Harry sat next to Dean Thomas, completely absorbed in reflecting on how screwed up his last year at Hogwarts was turning out to be. He didn't hear the names being called out, who was working with whom, or the basic guidelines, and only came to when the stout teacher declared:

"I am requiring that you make one visit to the library before the end of this week. The projects are due on the last day of class before winter interterm." Harry looked about clueless before turning to Dean.

"What? Who's your partner? Who's mine? Or wait—do we pick our own?"

"Nah. I got Parvati. You—" Dean pointed to their left, three tables up. Hermione sat with Padma and looked devastated.

"It's not—" Harry hurriedly began.

"Hermione," said Dean. Of course it was Hermione. That was just the way things worked, right? Against him?

Harry shot out of his seat and up to Flitwick's desk.

"Professor—"

"Ah, Harry!," he beamed, "Yes, I put you with Ms. Granger because you did such a spectacular job the last time! I expect another excellent show, yes?" Harry nodded lamely and went back to his table, not daring to look at Hermione. Well, he was pretty much stuck. He wondered if she'd be willing to receive a failing grade if it meant not coming in contact with him. Perhaps they could turn in two separate assignments, just refuse to work with one another…. The bell rang and the students hurried to leave.

"Coming to lunch Harry?" Dean asked.

"No. I've got… stuff. Tell Ron, will you? And I'll talk to you later about the project—sorta wasn't listening." he answered.

"Sure. See you." Dean walked out of the room with the rest of his classmates. Harry sighed and picked up his bag. It wasn't that _he _hated Hermione, it was that _she _hated him, so what was the point of trying to confront her, for _any_ reason? He had not spoken to her since that night in the Head Room (which had been some time ago) and planned not to. Hermione would have to be the one to make the first move; Harry had already done that.

He left the classroom and prepared to turn left. (Dumbledore wanted to see him for some reason or another).

"Um," someone prompted. Harry turned to face Hermione. His heart stopped.

"Oh," he said.

"We should go to the library before everyone else does and checks out all of the good books. Are you, uh, free tomorrow?" He picked his brain. He hadn't planned practice, but did have a lesson with Kingsley.

"Yeah, after 7:30." Hermione then walked resolutely off in the opposite direction. Harry resumed his own path, shaking his head.

Harry's session with Kingsley Shacklebolt the following day did not go well. He came off having received the worst end and found himself on his back more often than not. He also sustained a couple of bruises. Kingsley was not pleased. He knew Harry fought better than that and demanded him to display his usual fervor. Harry was not content either. He was furious with himself for performing like a first year but simply could not seem to improve. (Kingsley's yelling did not help). He knew the fact that he was dwelling on Hermione was probably the source of his poor concentration, but did not voice this to his teacher. Harry left sore, angry, and to Kingsley's commands that he'd better be ready for his next lesson with Emmeline Vance, or else.

Hermione walked cautiously into the library, biting her lip. She was not ready for this—having to face Harry again. Sure, they would only discuss their Charms assignment, but it was the fact that she'd be alone with him. That meant forced conversation, sneaking glances at his painfully attractive face, and reliving emotions.

"You can do this," she muttered, "You _have _to." Hermione moved through the library (after nodding to Madam Pince) and shortly came across Ron.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, grateful for time to stall.

"Research for this stupid Care of Magical Creatures essay," he retorted, lifting up two books. She was suddenly struck by how tall he was, "What is Hagrid on?! Neville's my unofficial partner. What about you?"

"Uh, Charms project! I'm meeting Padma here." Hermione said. He nodded then studied her. Should he warn her Harry was also here and appeared to be in a foul mood?  
"What?" she nervously chuckled. Why was Ron staring at her like that? God, what if Harry told him?! _That's ludicrous, _she told herself, _for some reason, you _know _Harry wouldn't tell him—Ron had no idea_.

Hermione suddenly hugged him, feeling like a bad friend. Ron was merely worried about his best friends and they were not easing his mind by putting up walls. Even so, this matter _was _between Hermione and Harry.

"See you later," she remarked, moving on.

"Er… yeah," he mumbled. Ron walked out of the library, blushing.

Hermione found Harry in the very back of the room, with some volumes already open and scanned through. He didn't look up as she shakily set her bag on the table and sat down. He was rapidly riffling through a book; Hermione instantly knew he was upset.

"You've… already found some information?" she inquired.

"A bit." Harry stated.

"Right." She got up to obtain additional sources. Standing behind bookshelves a few good feet away, Hermione let out a small sigh, watching him through the gaps. His eyes hadn't left the pages once. Maybe this would be easier than anticipated. Harry was obviously not dying to talk to her.

Fifteen minutes later, he hadn't said anything else or even looked at Hermione. She stopped writing and tentatively turned to him.

"Uh, any problems?" she pondered.

"No."

"Oh…. Just wondering." Ten minutes passed and Harry got up to fetch a couple more books. Almost half an hour had slipped by and he had not started, or attempted, conversation. It was as though he had forgotten about the kiss fiasco. Hermione noted she could live with that.

Another 20 minutes of silent Harry came and went. Now, however, Hermione began wondering how Harry felt about all that had occurred. Had he truly been sincere? If so, then why was he acting as though he wasn't even sitting next to her? Hermione bitterly wished that he would at least look at her once—that was all she asked. He didn't have to say a word, just a gaze.

After an hour of being in the library and virtually ignored by Harry, Hermione felt she was losing her mind. She thought silence was what she had craved, but she had apparently been wrong. What he was doing was nothing short of heartless. She found herself staring at him often, and once or twice at his lips. Didn't he know the rules of the game? Why was he callously ignoring her?! Hermione contemplated over whether to say something about their interlude, _anything_ to get Harry to speak! She prepared to talk when he opened his mouth. She watched keenly as Harry cleared his throat. Her shoulders fell. That was it. His indifference was driving her mad!

"Do you even care?" Hermione asked out of the blue. After 60 treacherous minutes of isolation, Harry finally met her eyes.

"What?" he wondered. She fretfully twirled her quill, fear immediately settling in. _Hope you can handle what you just started, genius!_, she yelled at herself.

"Between… us. That night. Care about that." The last sentence came out hardly above a whisper. He scoffed.

"What kind of question is that? I already told you how I felt before I kissed you, remember?" Harry replied.

"Yes but, I mean your… real feelings," she remarked. He looked at her as if she were the thickest person on Earth.

"Why can't you accept that I meant every single thing I said?" A thousand butterflies erupted in her stomach.

"B-because I find it hard to trust you when you snogged Parvati and later claimed it meant nothing," Hermione retorted, "For some reason, you had the urge to k-kiss me. It was a mistake Harry."

"Kissing Parvati was, but not you. I'd do it again," he flatly pointed out. She felt her heart skip about six beats. He was doing it again, making her hopeful…. Harry threw down his quill and gave a mocking laugh.

"You really confuse me Hermione! You desert me in the Head Room, giving me the impression you want nothing to do with me. So I give you space like you want, but then you ask me how I feel about it, and when I give you an answer, you totally swear it off like I'm lying or something!," he explained, "I know how I feel all right? What? Did you miss the twisted attention? Do you just want to argue?"

"No!" Hermione said, more aggressive than she meant it to sound. That had been harsh, and perhaps had touched on a truth.

"You have no idea what you want, do you? Well, from the way you've been treating me it's safe to assume you don't want anything to do with me, at the very least!," Harry forcefully stood up. She watched in horror, "Rest assured, I can fulfill that wish. If you really don't want to be around me Hermione, if it's so _hard_, then fine. I… I'll leave you alone all right? I'll ignore the fact that I can't seem to think of anything or anyone other than you and move on." He grabbed his belongings with unstable hands as tears clouded Hermione's vision. If she really was going to be like this for the rest of… whenever, Harry saw no point in trying to associate with her. It would kill him, but the torment she put him through now was killing him. Better not to be around then look at her everyday and be reminded of what he didn't have. Hermione, on the other hand, was panicked. Merlin, was he absolutely finished with her?! Of all things, she did not him out of her life, by any means!

"H-Harry!," she choked, standing up, "No! I'm scared, okay? I'm scared!" He relaxed a bit.

"Of what?" he inquired, looking at her.

"Your feelings for me, mine for you… what might happen between us. I mean, I've liked you since fourth year. I'm sure of how much I… I care about you. But you… this is new. And it seems impossible that you would have feelings for me. Who am I? No one." Hermione spilled, two tears falling. Wow, she had just confessed to her emotions. He finally knew.

"Don't say that." Harry told her, his voice cracked. Lord, Hermione _did _like him. He felt light headed.

"I don't want us to… to start something, and then have it fall apart. Maybe you'll realize I'm not worth it, and then our friendship would be ruined along with our… relationship, whatever. It's safer to stay this way."

"I can't, not now, not after knowing how you feel. Hermione—you have nothing to be afraid if. I am _not _going to wake up one day and think you're horrible because that's out of the question. You are singularly the most fascinating and wonderful person I have ever met. _That _is who you are and that is why I want to be with you. I told you before, I've never been so sure about anything in my life like the way I feel about you." His arm had locked around her waist and she didn't care. In fact, Hermione was feeling completely elated. Worn out, but elated. She wanted to collapse in his arms. She could not believe this was taking place, and would probably never get over her surprise or happiness.

"It's not a mistake?" she asked, smiling. A tear fell down her face. He lifted her chin up with his free hand and wiped it away.

"It's not a mistake." Harry grinned. He then leaned in and kissed her, and Hermione actually kissed him back, something she had been most anxious to do. His other arm went to join the one holding her as she slipped her hands around his neck. Chemistry exploded between them as their kiss deepened and he pulled her closer. Neither one seemed to remember they _were_ in the library, or that anyone else on the planet existed.

* * *

A/N: I made Harry and Hermione make up rather soon (a few days—three or four) because I do not know how to drag out their spats for too long. Sorry if some of you thought it was too soon. I also had to do it because I need them to be together before Christmas, and Hogsmeade, comes up in the story (and it does so quite soon) because stuff happens. Dun dun dun! Lol. Also, I do not know if Hogwarts has a bell system, but like I've said before, it's that way in _this _story! I'll post again on Sunday. Later much. 


	14. Krazy Animal Kingdom Kahoots

A/N:Nervous laughter: I was supposed to post on Sunday. My apologies! But college got in the way, once more, and finals are next week so… yeah. I was able, however, to write a lot more. The story is _finally _taking off. This chapter is sort of the catapult for things to begin happening, so it's not _too _eventful. Thank you **SapphireMind **for the review—I will take the 'retort' thing to heart ;D

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 14

Things were fantastic. Harry had not been this happy since the days when Sirius was alive. He could not fully grasp the idea that he and Hermione were actually together. Yes, it was more likely than not going to be a low key relationship (an _extremely _low key relationship) but who cared; it didn't take away from the fact that Hermione was with him. Harry told Ron his difficult situation with her was over and this overjoyed the Weasley boy, so much in fact that he didn't care what they had been at ends about anymore. Indeed, the three of them began hanging around once more, forming the familiar trio. Ron noticed the two of them were more upbeat than anytime before but attributed it to them being on good terms after so long. (Good might have been a understatement, unbeknownst to Ron).

Hermione felt as though she was permanently on cloud nine. She simply could not get over the fact that Harry harbored feelings for her—intense feelings—or that he _wanted _her. She could not ever remember feeling so jubilant and did not want it to end. Whenever she saw him now, she would grin like a giddy fool and feel as though all the air had been let out of her. Hermione was fit to burst and had a nagging need to tell someone (specifically Ginny) about Harry. However, it was much too soon and new to do that. She wondered when they would come out about their relationship, for it _was _inevitable, but did not give it too much thought.

Hermione sat on a sofa with a book, her legs curled underneath her. Her eyes were on the page but she was not taking anything in. She was thinking about Harry and how terrifically he smelled, like butterbeer and a field of fresh grass. (It had been three days since the library incident). She struggled not to blush as she recalled how being close to his body made her own absolutely weak.

"Hey," someone said in a low voice, speaking in her left ear. It made her shiver and a smile immediately illuminated her face. Arms were on either side of her head, gripping the sofa.

"Hi," she softly replied. The person left to come and face her. Harry was grinning. He took a seat right across from her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, feeling stupid for smiling so much.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "You?"

"I'm _supposed _to be reading, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"My mind wandered to other… things."

"Really?" Harry said, with a wicked grin.

"Yes."

"Well, since you can't focus, would you mind coming with me?"

"Where?" Hermione wondered, suspicious but excited.

"It's a surprise." She looked at him then around the common room.

"What if—" she began.

"No one will miss us. Ron is stuck in the library, still griping over that Creatures' essay. Please?" explained Harry. She relented, one because she wanted to be alone with him, and two, because he was adorable when he begged.

"All right," she agreed, setting her book down. He smiled and took her hand to help her up, hoping it didn't come off as more than a friendly gesture to anyone watching. (They had been friends for years, after all).

They left the common room and ventured through the castle, Harry leading the way. They stole doting glances from one another and didn't say too much.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"We're almost there." Harry coaxed, putting an arm around her waist.

"Harry!" she warningly hissed, although it felt fantastic.

"Relax; we're in the upper part of the school! There aren't as many people here." Not long after, they reached their destination.

"The Astronomy Tower!" Hermione remarked, laughing unsurely.

"Yes, well, I had this terrible need to kiss you and I couldn't very well do it in the common room." Harry noted. She flushed and her pulse quickened.

"Are you suggesting the Head Girl commits the most infamous, illegal school rule?"

"Yes I am," he grinned, pulling her inside and shutting the door.

"T-the Hufflepuffs have… have rounds tonight." Hermione quietly told him. He wasn't really listening. Instead, he had his arms around her middle and was caressing her face with his nose. It was awfully distracting.

"Whatever." Harry said, kissing her forehead. She shrugged her concern off, eager to taste him, and reached up to catch his lips with hers. They kissed slowly but fully, trying to come in as close as possible. Head emanated between them. His hands began to run themselves all over her back as she pulled down harder on his neck. What Harry really wanted was to snog her senseless—to be able to truly explore her body and let their tongues be introduced to one another. However, he was not going to rush anything and reasoned he could (and would) wait until they got to that point. This _was_ all new, wasn't it?

Hermione's hands cautiously moved to Harry's hair. She had always had an affinity for his untidy hair; she thought it was darling. Now she could finally find out what it felt like. Harry grinned against her lips as she ran her fingers through it. The texture of it was shockingly soft; it was rather like silk. As they continued to kiss blissfully, Hermione contently played in his hair.

They had just pulled apart, desperate for air, when footsteps were heard. They looked at each other, panicked. Harry quickly let go of her and moved back as the door was pulled open. Hermione hoped to Merlin it wasn't the Hufflepuff prefects. It wasn't. Two sixth year Ravenclaws stood in the doorway, looking afraid and puzzled.

"Er—what are _you _doing here?" the boy inquired. Hermione shot Harry a look, telling him to remain silent, before responding:

"Searching for people like you, not that it's any of your business! Why are you here?" The couple looked guiltily at each other and started mumbling.

"As I thought," she said.

"Well… why is Harry Potter here?" the girl wondered. Hermione glared at her and Harry looked away.

"Are you questioning me and _my _actions? What are you implying!"

"Nothing!" she squeaked.

"Okay then! Return to your dormitory before you receive detention. Ten points from Ravenclaw." Hermione deemed. The boy grabbed his girlfriend's hand and they ran off. A minute or two passed before Harry snorted, silently laughing.

"It's not funny," she remarked.

"Yes it is."

"It could have been much worse!"

"But it wasn't," he smiled. He then hugged her, "That was fast thinking Hermione. You terrified them!"

"I feel horribly, like a charlatan!" Hermione admitted, holding onto his tie while her face was buried in his chest. Harry laughed again.

"They'll probably never come back again. The loss of points was a nice touch," he mused. She grinned in spite of herself.

"Let's go before we're found again." Hermione advised.

* * *

"So are you going to Hogsmeade with Bethany again?" Neville asked Dean interestedly. The five roommates were in their dormitory, lounging about. Yesterday had been a DA meeting—a noticeably good one. Everyone was in good spirits once more. Ginny had been tempted to tell Ron about her relationship with Colin, but pictured how quickly the mood would change and ended up abandoning it.

"Yep." Dean smiled from his bed.

"What about you Harry? Parvati?" Seamus inquired, eating a soil flavored Bertie Bean and spitting it out.

"No! That's over, remember, he answered, thinking stubbornly of Hermione, "I'll go… I dunno. With Ron and Hermione." Harry looked over to his best friend, who wore a strange expression.

"Unless Rebecca said yes. Did she?" he pondered.

"Haven't asked yet."

"Are you afraid?" wondered Dean.

"No! It's just… well… today, someone asked _me_." Ron reported.

"Who!" Harry and Seamus said in unison.

"Luna Lovegood." Harry gaped at him.

"Luna!" Neville repeated. Dean and Seamus laughed.

"Hey, she's changed! She's not as weird as she once was! Okay… she might still be a _little _off, but she's loads prettier." Ron commented.

"So are you going with Luna?" Harry asked, captivated.

"Dunno…" he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, maybe you should just ask Mesh, Neville." Seamus joked, arms folded.

Hermione waited outside of History of Magic, tracing her foot along the stone floor. The class should be out in a few moments…. Someone came down the corridor and purposefully tripped over her shoe.

"Watch it Mudblood." Blaise Zabini growled at her. She glowered at him. Draco Malfoy, who was by his side, smirked vindictively and they kept moving. Hermione turned the other way, revolted by both. The next minute students began leaving the classroom and she perked up to find the person she wanted.

"David!" she called. He spotted her and smiled.

"Hermione," he stated, gently squeezing her hand. She gave him a quick hug, "I haven't seen you in a few days!"

"I know. You weren't at the DA meeting yesterday!"

"I tried, but I just had so much work to complete." David told her.

"I understand," Hermione said, "So, how have you been?"

"Fine, I suppose. I haven't had the opportunity to really speak to you, but I've noticed you've been much happier lately."

"Oh, well… yeah," she blushed, thinking of Harry.

"I'm glad Hermione," he remarked, "Whatever it is, it must be wonderful."

"It is." It was a moment before talk commenced again.

"Can I ask for your advice on something?" David asked.

"Of course."

"Well… Rebecca asked me to Hogsmeade."

"Did she? That's nice!" Hermione observed.

"Yes, and she's a great witch, it's just… I don't know."

"David, I've seen you with her. You two go well together! I really think you should give it a go. You deserve to be around someone who truly thinks you're amazing… because you are." He studied her for a second and then nodded.

"I suppose you're right." David remarked.

"Of course I am," she quipped, smiling, "Now tell me what else is going on in your life. You know, we've _got _to talk more often…"

* * *

The next day Hermione broke down. She decided that if she couldn't tell someone at Hogwarts why her attitude had drastically altered, she was going to go insane. Hermione told Ginny to come to her room after dinner and the redhead agreed. Ginny opened the door to see her friend pacing.

"'Lo," she greeted.

"Ginny," Hermione said, "Come in and close the door." She obeyed.

"What's up?"

"I have to tell you something, but you cannot say _anything _to anyone."

"What is it?" she pondered, suddenly intrigued.

"The only reason I'm telling you in the first place is because _you _already knew why I was upset in the first place. I mean, I told you that so I can tell you this." Hermione ambiguously blabbered.

"What is it!" Ginny avidly demanded. There was suddenly a resounding BANG, making the girls jump.

"What in the bloody hell?" Ginny muttered.

"It sounded like an explosion!" Hermione noted. They left the room and went down to the common room. A large group of onlookers surrounded a first and second year, laughing. The eleven year old had an elephant's trunk & tusks, and the other had antlers, a tail, and hoofs. They both looked petrified. Hermione groaned.

"Looks like the work of Fred and George. It's one of their newer products—Krazy Animal Kingdom Kahoots," Ginny reported.

"They're gone, have been for nearly two years, and still terrorize the school," Hermione complained, "I've got to sort this out!"

Hermione approached the younger Gryffindors and led them out of the common room; they had to find Professor McGonagall or Flitwick. She tried to pry out of them what exactly had taken along the way. Twenty minutes later she climbed back through the portrait hole, sighing. Perhaps the disruption had been a sign—maybe it was good Hermione had not been able to tell Ginny about Harry. She would have done it without his consent furthermore. She vowed not to slip up again, or to tell anyone until they had both decided to do so. It couldn't be risked at the moment; people might not understand yet.

Hermione then saw Harry coming down the boys' staircase. She felt her heart flutter.

"Hi," she said, meeting him and wearing a dazzling smile.

"Hi," he responded.

"You know, I haven't kissed you at all today." Hermione quietly pointed out, leaning in a bit to keep it private.

"I know." Harry darkly smiled.

"Maybe we could go to the Room of Requirement and fix that?" He sighed.

"I… I can't," he grumbled.

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

"I've got something to do right now." It was, in fact, a lesson with Professor Dumbledore himself, and Harry was not thrilled about it. (He never was).

"All right." Hermione stated, waiting for a true explanation.

"It's this annoying thing for Defense," Harry lied, feeling badly, "I'm sorry Hermione."

"That's fine, Harry, really. I'll… see you tomorrow then."

"I wish I didn't have to go," he remarked, meaning it. She gave a small smile.

"See you." Harry said, reluctantly walking off. He wished he could kiss her goodbye. She watched him go, put out. It seemed he always had something to do lately, and quite a few of these doings seemed to be detentions (with Snape), which was odd even for Harry.

* * *

A/N: I'm seeing Christmas coming in… Chapter 17. Next chapter… perhaps some dark magic? I'll post this weekend and this time I swear! 


	15. The First Date

A/N: Woo! I'm posting like I said I would!! Um, thank you to **DarkSyaoran **for the review! Preciate it. Ooh! Score! The horizontal ruler works once more!! My life isn't over or meaningless!!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 15

Ginny did not forget about Hermione's near revelation. She kept probing Hermione about it, forcing the brunette to come up with a lie. (The number of lies she had already dished out since the start of seventh year bothered Hermione). It was difficult to tell whether Ginny truly believed the fib, but she let the subject drop much to Hermione's relief.

On Thursday, there was a Quidditch game between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor; it was the last match of the year before winter break. On Tuesday Harry scheduled practice, though it didn't appear as if they would have another on Wednesday—the weather was rather nasty. (Harry hoped it would get somewhat better by game day).

"Hey Harry, did you notice something?" Ron asked, after practice had ended. He was tying his shoe and they were the only ones left in the locker room.

"Notice what?" Harry answered, stuffing his gloves in his locker.

"Hermione's left Rice alone. I wonder why," Harry stopped what he was doing, feeling paralyzed, "I mean, she talks to him occasionally but it's not like before. That's a good thing though, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah…"

"Maybe she's finally realized he's a wanker, because he is, no matter what anyone says." Harry simply nodded, feeling it was okay to breathe normally again.

"Oi, do you know what the idiot did to me?!" Ron half-yelled, suddenly animated.

"What?" Harry smiled, picking up his broom.

"He went behind my back and took Rebecca! They're going to Hogsmeade together!"

"So you finally asked her?"

"Yes, and that's what she told me."

"You're out of it, mate," Harry said, "But… Luna's still there, right?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, arms crossed.

"So, are you taking her?"

"Yeah," grinned Ron, "That's why I wasn't too let down when Rebecca told me she was going with Mr. Yawn."

"Well good for you." The boys walked out into the fierce snow.

"Looks like it's just you and Hermione! It'll be your first date." Ron jokingly remarked, not knowing the effect of his words. Harry stopped walking and his mouth went dry. Dear Merlin… he was right. Ron stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Have you gone off your rocker? In case you've forgotten, it's near freezing out here! Why are you stopping?!" he howled.

"I… er—right. Sorry," Harry stumbled, starting up, "Shocked by the cold." It _was _going to be only Harry and Hermione on Saturday… did it constitute as a date? Did he have to ask her, or could he casually mention it? Harry had to force down a grin so as to not appear even crazier to Ron. His first date with Hermione… what a milestone, and one which had once seemed so unreachable. He suddenly couldn't wait for Saturday.

Harry leaned against the desk, talking with Parvati. Potions had ended and they were lingering behind.

"A Slytherin?" wondered Harry, face contorted with disgust.

"Yes," she responded.

"Which one?"

"Daniel Marx."

"A Slytherin? You're going to Hogsmeade with a Slytherin?!"

"Yes!," Parvati laughed, "You know, they're _not _all like Malfoy. Some are decent!"

"Hmph," he surveyed, not convinced, "Well, if he tries anything, just let me know; I'll be happy to test out a few spells on him."

"Thanks for the offer," she commented, smiling shrewdly.

"A-_hem_," came a voice. The two turned to see a sour looking Severus Snape, "This is not social hour in the Gryffindor common room. Class has been dismissed." Harry sighed in an agitated manner, getting up, and Parvati gave a small smile.

"I've got Astronomy anyway," she quietly told him.

"I'll walk you halfway," he suggested.

"Potter." Snape said, indicating he wanted a word.

"Or not!" Harry silently growled.

"Later Harry!" Parvati said, giggling and leaving.

"Yes?" he remarked, glaring at the professor.

"I know you have a selective memory, so I will notify you only once: you will be here promptly at eight on Friday night for your lesson. I will not have you tie up my schedule only to be irresponsible and inconsiderate." Snape lectured, organizing parchment.

"I had no intentions of forgetting, _sir_. How could I? It's time spent with _you_." Harry dryly replied. Before Snape could fire back, clearly infuriated, Harry left. He didn't care. He didn't care if Snape had saved his life, helped with the dementors in third year (in a sense), not cooperated with Umbridge, and was currently helping with his fight against Voldemort—it didn't matter. Harry would never look at Snape with anything other than loathing; too much had happened between them.

Harry walked miserably back to the Tower. He had homework waiting for him, and much of it. He wished he could find some way to elude it, if only for a little while longer. As if an answer to his prayers, someone tapped his shoulder. It was Hermione and she looked particularly breathtaking.

"Hi," she exhaled, sweeping hair away.

"You've come to rescue me!" Harry grinned.

"From?" He shrugged and she smiled.

"So I take it you're not exactly… busy?" Hermione inquired.

"No," he responded, dismissing the mountain of work.

"Want to come to the Head Room?" she asked, dropping her voice as people passed.

"Malfoy?" Harry wondered.

"Class: Astronomy."

"You know his schedule?"

"Yes. I plan my time spent there around it." Hermione replied. He smiled, not needing to say anything, and followed her. Five minutes later they were alone. They sat on the black sofa, a fire inexorably going. (Hermione was seated much closer to Harry than she ever would have been when they were just friends).

"What are you doing for Christmas?" he asked, looking at her. He had to fight down the instinct to stop talking and simply kiss her. (He thought it was amazing that he was actually allowed to do that now).

"I'm spending time with my parents." Hermione reported.

"_All _of it?"

"No! I mean, I'll be at home the first few days, at least. My parents claim they'll die if I abandoned them on another holiday."

"What about Christmas day?"

"I'll come to Grimmauld Place in the afternoon," she remarked.

"_Early _afternoon," he corrected.

"Early afternoon," smiled Hermione.

"And stay until we come back to Hogwarts." Harry went on, lacing his fingers through hers.

"And stay until we come back to Hogwarts," she dreamily repeated, grinning.

"Good. It's our first holiday together, you know… _together_," he muttered, eyes on her hand. Hermione flushed. He made her feel magnificent without even trying.

"Harry?" she started.

"Yeah?"

"What are you going to do this summer?," Hermione pondered, studying him with concern and pride, "You're not… going back to your uncle's, are you?"

"Only to pick up whatever of mine is left over there. My time with the Dursleys is over! I'm of age and they can't make me, no matter what they say." Harry passionately said. She nodded approvingly, their hands still together.

"Are you going to get your own flat? With Ron?"

"Hopefully," he replied, liking the Ron idea and making a mental note to tell him about it, "I can stay with the Weasleys or Remus until I find one." It was silent for a moment as the flames cackled. He needed to bring up the Hogsmeade issue. What was she going to do? Say no?!

"So… did you hear about Ron going with Luna to Hogsmeade?" Harry began.

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "It's cute!"

"He wanted to go with Rebecca Mesh initially. Was right upset to know David beat him to it." Her smile immediately left.

"Yes, well, he can't have his cake and eat it too!" she noted. He laughed.

"_You're _not taking someone, are you?" she teasingly grinned.

"Well, actually… yes. I'd hoped it be our-our first date." Harry informed her. She stared at him.

"I want this to be our first date, Hermione," he said, "Unless you've suddenly decided that you hate me." She was stunned. Her first date with Harry! Okay, yes—she knew they would end up going with each other. But she hadn't thought of it in that light. The idea, however, was nothing short of romantic. They obviously wouldn't be able to display any kind of affection as to tip someone off, but it didn't matter; _they _knew the significance of it.

"Harry, I…" Hermione began.

"Am for it? Think it's stupid?" Harry helped.

"No," She shook her head, "I, I think it's perfect. I'd love to."

"Yeah?" he smiled.

"Yes."

"Can I kiss you now? I'll go mad if I have to wait any longer."

"Please do." Hermione smiled invitingly.

"Thank you." Harry whispered, taking her face in his hands and covering her mouth with his own. She inhaled and melted into it, hopelessly losing herself.

* * *

Gryffindor won their match against Hufflepuff, despite less than lovely weather and biased comments from Ernie Macmillan. Harry had caught the Snitch in record time, probably still high off the parade of kisses Hermione had given him in the locker room 20 minutes before game time. His lesson with Snape had gone exceptionally well too, much to Snape's dismay. (For some reason Potter was in good spirits and could not be broken easily). 

Harry awoke on Saturday only to find himself whistling before breakfast. Ron looked bewildered and gaped.

"I feel like it, all right?!" Harry told him, his socks in his hand. On the other side of the room Seamus was talking to Dean and Neville about his vacation plans.

"I'll be Apparating over to Lavender's a lot. I think Apparition is the best thing I've ever learned with magic. It makes life so much easier," he said. Dean nodded in agreement while Neville smiled nervously; he had been too scared to take the test that summer. Harry, on the other hand, had been very eager to take the exam, but had not been permitted. Most of the Order concurred that the risk for his safety was too big with Voldemort on the prowl, so they had denied him. Harry, enraged, vowed he would try for Apparition his very first day out of Hogwarts and dared anyone to stop him. Ron and Hermione, being the best friends they were, had not taken the test either as a mark of loyalty, and would go with him in June.

They five boys waited in the Great Hall for their respective partners. (Hannah Abbot had agreed to go with Neville).

"What is taking Luna so long?" Ron wondered, when their three roommates were gone. Harry shrugged, tearing his eyes away from Hermione.

"She's Luna," he merely stated.

"Tell me about it," He glanced down the hall for a sign of her, "Sorry to leave you and Hermione by yourselfs. Try not to be too bored."

"It's no bother at all." Harry remarked, involuntarily staring at her again. Maybe they should forget Hogsmeade and spend an undisturbed afternoon in his room….

"Hello Ronald, Harry," Luna greeted, waving vaguely, "Ready Ronald?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Have fun." Harry advised.

"Weasel!," Malfoy gleefully called from the other side of the door, "You're taking _that_?! She's not much better than Longbottom!" Ron's ears went red while Luna's head tilted to one side. Hermione paid no attention to the Slytherins hurrying past her without conformation.

"Souls that boast are as useful as wet toast," Luna remarked. Harry snorted and Malfoy looked flabbergasted, "Come Ronald." She took his wrist and they left. Hermione caught Harry's eye and they smiled.

Ten minutes later the two were walking the trail to Hogsmeade, chatting idly. (They were the last ones on the trail; Malfoy and another female partner were many yards ahead).

"What do you want to do first?" he asked. He wanted nothing more than to grab her hand.

"I don't know… the pub is fine," she said.

"Hog's Head?"

"Oh, no!" she grinned, whishing desperately that they could at least hold hands.

"Fine, Three Broomsticks it is," he sighed dramatically, in jest.

"We _could _go to Madam Puddifoot's." Harry glanced at her sharply.

"You… you're serious?"

"No!," laughed Hermione, touching his arm, "Just thought you'd like to relieve your, _pleasant_, first date."

"Never in a million years," Harry said, shuddering. She laughed again, "How can you even compare the two?"

"I'll make sure today isn't traumatizing for you," she lightheartedly assured.

"You know, that's really why Cho broke up with me."

"What?"

"You. I know you knew she was jealous, but you didn't know just how much. I guess she had great reason to be," he told her. Hermione looked at him, speechless, and then ahead, beet red. He was doing it again, being amazing….

They stayed in Madam Rosmerta's establishment for little over an hour. Many of their friends were also there and beckoned for them to join the table. They observed they'd be out of place since they didn't have dates (which, of course, was false), but Ron insisted and pointed out Ginny & Colin were dateless as well. Coughs and nervous shifts in chairs ensued, and Harry and Hermione sat down. They only stayed for 20 minutes, and then left to find a table for themselves near the back. They had an agreeable time simply talking to and making one another smile. Somehow, it was different speaking now… more thrilling (probably because they shared a secret) and less tense (probably because in the past they had carried the unknown burden of feelings for each other).

After the pub, Hermione and Harry walked around the village. He dragged her into Zonko's where she was forced to turn her back on some of the products he bought-- he claimed they were Ron's Christmas gifts. In Honeydukes, Harry bought her her favorite candies. Hermione swore it wasn't necessary but he wouldn't hear it.

"That's what a gentleman is supposed to do on dates," he noted, grabbing a box of Crystal Fairies, "Buy candy and flowers." He picked up a flower made of colorful gummies and handed it to her. She took it and smiled.

"My parents won't appreciate this. Have you forgotten their occupation?" Harry grinned in response and went to purchase everything.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore dipped his quill in his inkbottle and rolled up the parchment. He stood up and walked over to his phoenix's perch. 

"Take this to the Minister of Magic please, Fawkes," he remarked, stroking him. The bird complied and disappeared with the letter in beak. Dumbledore sighed, putting his wand to his head. He extracted a memory and moved to place it in his Pensieve. As he closed the cabinet's doors, something inside suddenly gripped him, causing him to lurch forward. When it passed, he looked about wildly, powerfully, and seriously all at the same time. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

* * *

"I've had a wonderful time Harry." Hermione commented, strolling alongside him. 

"So I've done something right!," he said excitedly, "Wait… _had_?"

"I know there's still quite some time left, but I thought we could go back to the castle. It's cold, and… I've come up with a way to warm ourselves up."

"That sounds fantastic," Harry grinned mischievously, "An excellent way to end this part of the day!"

The two walked by the post office. The Head Boy stood against the window with his dull companions Crabbe and Goyle, his date not in sight. What? Had he gotten everything he wanted out of her? Tired of the girl?

"Oh, look—how precious. Two losers, _alone_. Enjoying yourselves?" Malfoy said. The two trolls laughed. It was clear Harry wanted to retort, but Hermione made sure he pushed on.

"Good day Malfoy!" she called.

"I'm of age," Harry stated when there was fair distance between them, "I can fight him now, right?"

"Don't waste your hexes." Hermione said warily.

That's when he heard it, the familiar, radio-like static. Harry stopped suddenly, throwing out an arm. She looked at him, confused.

"What?" _Please… no…_

His heart began to pump faster. _No… not Harry…_

He tried to block it out, blinking several times. It then, however, became much colder—_drastically _colder. Lights began to blow out and the buzz of the village died. Harry seized his wand, petrified.

_Kill me instead!_

"Hermione!" he shouted. She didn't hear him, for she had screamed and backed away a few paces. He whipped around, afraid of what he'd view. Floating into the numerous streets of Hogsmeade were dementors. Multitudes of dementors.

* * *

A/N: Okay, was it just me, or when I wrote that bit about Dumbledore putting the wand to his head, did it sound like he was committing suicide?! LoL!! That'd be great! No, no… my fic isn't _that _weird. Erm… oh, crappy news. Next week is winter vacation (yes!) and I'm going home. I don't know when I'll be able to post during the two weeks, but I'll try to at least get one more chapter up. I don't want to leave the story hanging like this, lol. If not, which would suck, then I'll post the day I come back to this expensive prison—the 3rd of January. God, that sounds so far away. But yeah, like I said, I'll try my hardest to post before then. Yo. Flying monkeys!! 


	16. Aftermath

A/N: ::Rushes into room:: YES!! FINALLY! I can post once more!! ::Maniacal laugh:: Well, a lovely two (in reality three) week has passed and it was grand. However, I was dying the entire time to get back to school so I could keep continuing this story. Thank you to **Imapunker **for the review. And **HermioneGirl03**-- yo. Now, all I can hope is that I haven't lost anyone from my ten year absence. Ooh—THE 16TH OF JULY!!! I cannot WAIT. My year was made when I heard that news!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 16

Harry wished it was a crude nightmare but it was not. Hundreds of dementors were invading the village, and coming down fast.

"Your wand, Hermione, your wand!," he instructed her, "And remember, happy thought! Expe—" A cloaked figure swooped down on them. She yelled out and the dementor quickly snatched Harry, lifting him up. He fought desperately to escape its clutches. The dementor lifted its hood, ready to perform the kiss.

"No!," Hermione cried, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Her otter flew forth in a dazzling light, crippling the creature. Harry fell to the floor as the dementor fled, hurt.

"Harry!," she said, going to his side. She had pictured his face for her memory, "Are you okay?!"

"I… I'm fine. We have to find the DA—they have to help us ward them off!" he answered, getting up (with her assistance). She nodded, having the urge to cry.

"They're going to take everyone's souls, without a second thought!" Hermione said.

"It's Voldemort, I know it," Harry gravely told her, "Come on!"

They ran to find their fellow members, stopping constantly to help those who couldn't fight the dementors. Hogsmeade was now filled with terrified screams. The students were frenzied and scared out of their minds. Wizards ran into shops, or any open buildings, and locked the doors. It was absolute chaos. They had to be careful to watch out for themselves and others. (Trying to call upon a memory and focus on its strength to produce a patronus in their short amount of time was difficult).

As Harry and Hermione neared the Three Broomsticks, they saw much (if not all) of the DA.

"There!" he unnecessarily shouted. Several patroni were attacking dementors. His heart lifted; they had help.

"Aaah!" Hermione yelled. Harry spun around. A dementor had thrown her against a wall and was reaching for its hood.

"Hermione!," Harry exclaimed. He searched madly for a memory and the recollection of kissing her for the first time settled in, "_Expecto patronum_!!" The stag raced out and charged the dementor down. He grabbed her hand and they ran for their peers.

"Harry! Hermione!," Ron shouted, as his lion went for a dementor threatening a helpless fourth year, "Thank God! They came out of nowhere!"

"They're on Voldemort's orders!," Harry replied, turning to address them all. Ron blanched, "Listen! We have to fight them until we can get word to Hogwarts!"

"We'll go!" offered Colin, pointing to himself and Ginny. Harry nodded.

"Be careful!" Ron said worriedly as his sister and her boyfriend hurriedly left.

"We should split up in order to cover all of Hogsmeade! There are enough of us! And stay in pairs! It's much safer and it'll be easier to hold them off!," continued Harry. They all consented, looking shaken but determined, "This is what the DA's for. Now go!"

Lavender's heart shielded her and Seamus from a dementor as they took off in one direction, with Dean & Bethany King right behind them. David, Rebecca, Parvati, and Padma went towards the Shrieking Shack with Padma's panther in front, while Neville, Hannah, Ernie, and Justin headed in Zonkos' direction.

"We'll go towards Puddifoot's." Ron reported. Luna nodded.

"All right. Just—" Harry started.

"Stay safe." Hermione pleaded.

"That's the plan." Ron shakily smiled. He and Luna then departed.

"We'll head to Dervish and Banges." Harry told her.

"Yeah," she plainly stated, "Harry there are so many. How will we be able to hold them off?"

"As long as possible. I hope the professors get here soon."

Ginny and Colin raced along the road, gripping hands. They had just assailed two dementors in order to get out of the village. This was surreal. They had to get back to Hogwarts as quickly as they could; they couldn't handle this alone. Ginny felt like dropping to the ground and giving thanks for Harry.

"Gin! Look!" Colin ecstatically exclaimed. About ten feet ahead of them was Albus Dumbledore, seemingly every professor at Hogwarts, and (not known to Colin) the Order of the Phoenix. Ginny let out a sob of joy.

"Ms. Weasley! Mr. Creevey!" cried Minerva McGonagall.

"What is happening?" Dumbledore critically demanded.

"Dementors, everywhere. T-t-they just came." Colin staggered.

"Harry and the rest of the DA are dealing with them, sir," Ginny added, "There are hundreds." Some of the wizards looked confused to the reference of Harry and this 'DA'.

"Dear Merlin," remarked Moody.

"Harry!" Remus Lupin said, white as a sheet. He then Disapparated, along with three others.

"Return to the castle, immediately, for your safety." Dumbledore ordered.

"But—" Ginny started.

"_Now _Ms. Weasley," The matter was closed, "Minerva, escort them back, please. Melanie, Trevor, accompany her. Stay there and make sure Poppy is ready. The students shall be returning shortly." McGonagall obeyed and dispersed with the children and Professors Sinistra & Melbrooks (Muggle Studies). Dumbledore nodded and the rest of the group Apparated into Hogsmeade.

Harry and Hermione passed the post office again, and once more saw Malfoy and his friends. This time however, Draco Malfoy looked truly afraid, which was a significant change from his usual malice. Hermione saw them scramble inside the building, Goyle being the rear. A dementor then glided swiftly towards the door and grasped Goyle firmly. He screamed as Crabbe slammed the door shut, looking ready to wet himself. Inside, Malfoy was shaking violently and sweating.

"Harry!" Hermione said, stopping him.

"What?" A dementor suddenly drifted their way, arm outstretched for Harry. It separated him from Hermione, causing him to retreat the other way.

"_Expecto patronum_!" he yelled, thinking of his parents' wedding day. It fled and left a clear view of Hermione. She had just combated a dementor inches away from kissing Gregory Goyle. Harry turned to his right when he heard a cry. Near an abandoned old shop, a dementor had a third year girl in its clutches. He ran towards the scene, pointing his wand.

"_Expecto patronum_!"

For some reason, his stag didn't come forth. It was only a thick, silver, wisp. Consequently, it got the creature's attention. It let the girl go, who ran off crying, and turned to Harry. He frowned and tried again.

"_Expecto patronum_!" (Images of the Weasleys). His scar suddenly exploded with pain. He gave a short scream and crumbled to the ground, momentarily blinded. He struggled for air as he felt the dementor slowly approach. Harry gasped and clumsily retrieved his wand. He shook his head vigorously.

"_Expecto patronum_!"

_Please, don't kill Harry_! His mother's voice grew louder in his head with each passing second, until it was replaced by something new: Sirius.

"_Expecto_…" Sirius fell through the veil elegantly, utter surprise drawn on his face.

"_Ex_…" The thought played over, and over, and over, and over, refusing to stop. Harry was weak and felt water on his face, barely registering it was his tears. The dementor took his wrist and pulled him up. So, he was going to die. Well, all's well that ends well. He deserved to die anyway. He struggled twice before ceasing. Only a few more seconds…. He thought he heard someone screaming, a girl. Nothing was left. Wait… was there? At one point in time there had been. What was it?

A girl screaming—a girl. A pretty girl with brown hair and brown eyes. Only, _he _thought she was gorgeous. Yes, a girl. The girl. _His _girl. Hermione.

"Herminy," he mouthed, near the dementor's own mouth. That was it: Hermione. They were friends, had been for a long time, but recently something had happened. She cared about him, in different ways, and he cared about her, a lot. They had kissed more than once, but not enough in his opinion. He loved kissing her, loved _looking _at her. Hermione. Harry's eyes fully opened. He could smell the putrid breath and gasped. He had about one second. Sticking his wand in the dementor's chest, he pictured Hermione and bellowed:

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Two other voices mingled with his. The dementor all but shrieked as it, essentially, disintegrated. Harry dropped to his knees, the wind gone from him. He had _never _seen that.

"Harry!" croaked Remus, hurrying over to him. He pulled him into a sloppy hug. Harry should have been surprised to see him but wasn't. The other man whom had spoken the incantation was Dumbledore. He came over and crouched by Harry.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I will be." Harry said. He then saw Hermione and Ron a couple of feet away. He, drained of color, had a hold of her arm and she looked hysterical.

"Harry, get back to the castle, now. Hermione and Ronald will go with you. The road right ahead of us is clear. There were will be many other students returning as well. You've done an outstanding job, once again exhibiting how incredible you really are. We shall take it from here." Dumbledore explained. Harry nodded and was helped up.

"Do not stop for anything." Remus commanded.

"I won't." He squeezed the boy's shoulder before leaving with the headmaster. Hermione and Ron then rushed over. She flew into Harry's arms, sobbing, and he thankfully held onto her. Ron, who was used to Hermione's bear hugs in a time of crisis, put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Blimey mate," he said in a trembled voice, "Had us right scared, you did. Took you long enough to say it." Harry, who was used to Ron's humor in a time of crisis, smiled, still holding Hermione.

"Shut up," he said.

* * *

The four Houses were mandated to stay in the Great Hall. They were given enormous amounts of chocolate; enough was there to create a shortage at Honeydukes for a year. Everyone was clearly shaken, but took to talking about and staring at the DA. A few people even had the courage to thank them. Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy was totally silent. A strand of his immaculate hair was loose and he looked completely hostile. In fact, most of the table was quiet. Goyle would throw infrequent glances over to the Gryffindors, namely Hermione. (She was wedged in between Harry and Ron, and looked disturbed). 

An hour later Albus Dumbledore arrived with his staff. (Harry sadly noted the Order was gone). He wore a solemn expression and cleared his throat, preparing to speak. He said he was profusely grateful that _all _students were safe and one could hear the underlying anger in his voice. He was outraged the Dark Lord would dare to attack his students. A Hufflepuff asked why the dementors had showed up and the headmaster answered Voldemort. No one was shocked, only troubled. Harry nodded, remembering what the old wizard had told him in his office. A Ravenclaw then inquired what had become of the dementors. Dumbledore replied that they were destroyed. Talk began.

"_All _of them?"

"I didn't know you could kill a dementor!" marveled Dean.

"Yeah, it takes _way _more than just the spell said by one person. And you've got to be _really _powerful to do it." Ron said.

"It makes sense then, it being Dumbledore and all." Lavender noted. Dumbledore then directed attention towards the DA. They received a standing ovation, in which some of the Slytherins even stood. Dumbledore announced every member was receiving a Special Award for Services to the School, and Ron grinned at Harry. How many did they have now? He had once joked that the title should be changed to Special Award for Saving the School's Arse. After that cutlery appeared. Dumbledore told them to eat and absorb energy; dessert would consist of only chocolate sweets. Feeling slightly better, the students ate and socialized.

Hermione did not consume as much as everyone else (and no one could catch up to Ron), nor did she initiate any conversations. She could only think of that last dementor and Harry. When Ron was speaking vivaciously with Dennis Creevey about the Chudley Cannons, Harry quietly implored if she was all right.

"Fine, Harry," she told him, smiling feebly.

"Lovely first date, wasn't it?" he grinned. Hermione had no idea how to respond to that.

She spent that night in her room, deciding that if she couldn't only be with Harry then she didn't want to be with anyone. (Unfortunately every Gryffindor DA member was in his company, so she couldn't pull him away without raised eyebrows or people wanting to tag along). Hermione sat on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. It was insane how rapidly their day had turned into one of devastation. She could not stop thinking of Harry being held by that dementor, looking dangerously drained and helpless. He had come close to forfeiting his soul, close to being lost forever. It gave her unwelcoming, cold chills. The thought of losing Harry was unbearable and it had almost become a reality. Harry was such a vital part of her life (and always had been) that if he were to ever not… to ever stop…. Hermione buried her face in her arms, sniffing. He _couldn't _leave her, in any sense, and especially not now. She'd fall to pieces without Harry.

On Sunday there was flimsy sunlight. Plenty of students took to having snow wars out on the grounds. Ginny asked Hermione if she wanted to join them but she declined.

"Not really up to it Ginny." Hermione told her, sitting in a chair in the common room. Seamus, Dean, and Neville ran noisily out of the room as Ginny looked at her.

"It's over, Hermione. We were all scared," she informed, giving her a hug.

"I know."

"Well, just come out if you change your mind."

"I will." The only thing Hermione really wanted was to talk to Harry. He had still yet left to frolic in the snow. Ron came down after his sister had gone.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hi." Hermione replied.

"Going out?"

"No."

"Oh." He looked around.

"You all right? After what happened yesterday and all?" pondered Ron.

"For the most part," she sighed.

"Yeah, it wasn't fun. And Harry…." She gazed at him.

"I really wasn't sure there for a moment," he darkly remarked, "Honestly terrified. But, he's a fighter you know? Won't go down without a struggle."

"Yeah." Hermione mumbled, nodding a little.

"Well," Ron exhaled, "When he comes down here, tell him we're already outside. Don't be afraid to join him."

"I'll think about it," she half-smiled.

"Cool."

Hermione walked along the floor, waiting to reach the right door. Harry would be the only one left in his dormitory, which was perfect. The door was ajar so she pushed it open and stepped inside. Harry had a green scarf in one hand and looked up at the sound of someone entering.

"Hermione," he grinned. The dreaded thought came back to her.

"H-hi," she stuttered.

"Did you just want to see me, or—"

"See you… and talk, I guess."

"About?"

"Yesterday." Harry shook his head and walked over to her, letting the scarf flutter to the floor.

"It was horrible, Hermione. I wish it could be taken all back," said Harry.

"Me too. It's just… all of those dementors, thinking someone may be kissed, and then you—" To her horror, Hermione was cut off by hiccups and tears. He consoled her without a second thought.

"It's okay," Harry assured, rubbing her back. He'd come a long way since his days with Cho, "I'm fine. It's in the past now." He kissed her ear. She had no idea she had been his saving grace, and here she was not wanting to say more about the subject in case she alarmed him with just how much he meant to her.

"I… I think I want to get away from Hogwarts, for now. Go home." Hermione admitted, brushing a tear away while still despairingly clinging to his middle. It'd be nice if they could remain this way forever.

"Maybe everybody needs that." Harry mentioned, concealing his face in her hair.

* * *

A/N: A few things…. I put patroni b/c I have no idea what the plural for patronus is. Eh. And do patroni have to be animals? I hope not. I also made up a first name for Professor Sinistra and a whole professor entirely (Melbrooks); someone had to teach Muggle Studies. I'm predicting another chapter on Thursday. They finally go home for the holidays, which means I'm halfway done with the story. Ya ya! 


	17. Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

A/N: Thursday, Friday… same thing! **Maelgwyn-violetstar**, I am flattered that you enjoy my story although you hate H/H fics, though the fact that you hate them saddens me. I am a hopeless H/H freak! (Invader Zim!)

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 17

**Horrors in Hogsmeade**

Last Saturday, a colossal army of dementors invaded the village of Hogsmeade. Consequently it was also the day of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's trip to the small community, meaning every student third year and up was present. Extraordinarily, every single young witch or wizard escaped with his or her soul intact. (The dementors were ruthlessly attempting to perform their ghastly kiss). Harry Potter and his group of dementor-fighting peers known as the "PA" warded the dark creatures off until true help arrived, led by Albus Dumbledore. (For more information on Potter and the PA, see page 4). A theory has risen stating that the dementors were on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's orders.

Ron stopped reading the _Daily Prophet _and snorted.

"Bunch of morons," he remarked, "The PA!"

"They'll find a way to incorporate it with my ego or something… say it stands for _Potter's _Army." Harry said. (He had read the paper right before Ron). The redhead laughed.

"At least they don't have our names." Ron observed.

"They have _mine_!"

"But you're always in the news, always being hassled."

"Gee, thanks." Harry tonelessly said. Ron looked out of the compartment's window, smiling sheepishly. They were on the Hogwarts Express and riding to Platform 9 and ¾; their winter vacation had begun. During dinner on the night of the snow wars, Harry's scar burst with agony. He had frightened everyone by sending objects flying off the table, with his arms, due to the pain. He was rushed to the hospital wing by Hagrid, with Ron and Hermione right behind him. Harry knew that it had been because of Voldemort's anger over the dementor loss.

"What do you reckon the chances are of there being any more Hogsmeade visits?" Ron questioned.

"Slim to none."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not really. It wouldn't be the end of the world," shrugged Harry. Ron nodded and then changed the subject.

"Tomorrow we can go to the joke shop, first thing in the morning," he suggested.

"Sounds good," smiled Harry.

"Ginny'll want to come, naturally. So… Hermione's really not coming until the 25th, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, trying not to dwell on that fact.

"Good," Ron stated, stretching his lanky limbs, "We'll be harass-free for a few days." Harry didn't respond.

Hermione came in just as Ron threw Pig and Hedwig Owl Treats.

"I miss the days when I could sit the entire train ride without having to get up," she sighed, plopping down on Harry's side.

"When do you go patrol again?" he wondered.

"Hour and a half. Ron, you've got duty in 15—"

"I know, I know!" he answered, sitting again, "Have you read the _Prophet_?"

"Yes. The PA, honestly…," Hermione mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Ron grinned, "And there are about four lines regarding the DA on page four! I'm not complaining, mind you. It's good they don't know much about us. I just find it humorous… they swear as if it's the greatest discovery on Earth or something."

"You always complain about the way every article is written, Hermione. Why don't you work for one of these periodicals once you leave Hogwarts?" Ron commented.

"I wouldn't flatter them! I'd rather start my own!" Harry smiled, loving how ambitious she was. Not long after, Ron was walking out of the compartment.

"This prefect business is really starting to wear on my nerves," he grumbled.

"See you in half an hour!" Hermione merrily called. It was quiet, besides the zealous chirps coming from Pig. Crookshanks doze lazily under a seat. Harry looked at Hermione—she looked at him. Hermione stood up and casually walked to the door. She locked it and pulled the shutter down. When she turned around, Harry was on his feet. They met in the center of compartment, lips crashing together. She lost her fingers in his raven hair and he held her waist so tightly that it bordered on squeezing. The train shook and they stumbled back, lips still locked. They did nothing but kiss for five straight minutes, denying themselves words or even oxygen. (They hadn't really had any alone time since the dementor invasion).

"Don't go," he said, when the five minutes were up.

"Where?" she wondered, reeling from his kisses.

"Home."

"I have to."

"Why?"

"Because I live there."

"Minor detail." Harry began kissing her everywhere on her face that wasn't her mouth.

"I'll see you on Christmas." Hermione reminded him, closing her eyes.

"That's too far away and you know it," he said.

"Yes," she pouted. He went to sit down and pulled her with him. She curled up in the space under his right arm.

"When are we going to tell everyone about us?" Hermione asked. He sighed.

"I don't know. Maybe we should do it before we go back to school. It's just, I _know _some people are going to be… shocked." Harry replied.

"And maybe less than understanding?"

"Yeah," he murmured, thinking of Ron. He had no idea how his best friend would react but was a little frightened to tell him.

"I… I almost told Ginny," He glanced at her, "Thank God for the Weasley twins." Harry sighed again.

"I don't know either, Harry," Hermione softly said, "The time will just comes when it comes." She reached up and kissed him tenderly. He kissed her back and they became absorbed in one another once more.

For the rest of the train ride their compartment was full. Various friends, DA members, and housemates came one right after the other, paying them a visit. (Harry took the opportunity to thank the DA for their efforts against the dementors while they all had a laugh over the article). Ron only had one more quarter of an hour round through the entirety of the ride, whereas Hermione left quite often. Seamus and Dean were in the compartment about half of the journey, and Ginny & Neville became permanent residents. Exploding Snap and Gobstones were played, while Chocolate Frogs were eaten, as they talked about the holidays and the new year. When the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, the students cheerily said their farewells to one another and departed with their families.

Harry struggled with his trunk and Hedwig's cage as he tromped to one of the train's exits. He hoisted the cage up his side, with a squawk from his owl, just as he stepped in front of the exit. At the same time, he bumped into someone on his left.

"Oh, sor—" he started. But upon seeing the person, his sentence died in his throat. Malfoy looked deeply annoyed and had his usual troupe behind him. (They, however, did not have the customary smug, menacing expressions on their faces, nor did Draco).

"Watch where the hell you're going Potter," he deemed viciously. Harry was a bit surprised by the tone of his voice and couldn't snap back or glare in response. Malfoy shot the others behind Harry a dirty look and got off the train without looking back.

"I… that was, _odd_," Harry noted, turning around, "I mean, the fact that Malfoy was a prick wasn't odd, it was that he did it without any—"

"Glee? Pleasure?" Ginny helped.

"Exactly!"

"He's been like that since the dementor attack," Hermione quietly revealed. Ron arched an eyebrow, "His normal mean-spirited contentment is gone. Now he's just… genuinely nasty." Harry sighed and got going again, wanting to forget the fact that he was wasting perfectly good brain cells thinking about Draco Malfoy.

Waiting for Harry, Ron, and Ginny were the Weasley parents, Tonks, Dedalus Diggle, Charlie, and Mundungus Fletcher; the Grangers stood near them. Neville had just gone to find his grandmother as the four approached their party.

"Oooh!" cried Mrs. Weasley, grabbing her youngest children into a rib-cracking hug. Harry saw Hermione greet her parents before he said hello to Mundungus.

"Harry!" said Molly, pulling him into a tight embrace before he could even get the first syllable of "hello" out to Charlie Weasley. (Ron took Harry's place and greeted his older brother as Ginny hugged her father and Tonks).

"Ghastly! The whole situation! Absolutely horrible! Dementors! And you children!" Ron snorted at the last word as Arthur pried his wife off Harry.

"Really now Molly, let him breathe! I'm sure he doesn't want to think about that at the moment," he laughed, "How are you Harry?"

"All right Mr. Weasley," he answered.

"So, how _was _the dementor bombardment?" Mundungus "whispered" to Ron. Molly let out another wail and grabbed her children again.

"Mum!" hollered Ron.

"I don't even know if _Hogwarts _is safe anymore! How can I let you go back!" she said.

"WHAT!" Ginny and Ron shouted in unison. Tonks and Charlie smiled.

"D'you think we should return to headquarters," asked Diggle, "Perhaps we've lingered for too long?"

"Yes, yes, of course," nodded Arthur.

"We're off then." Mr. Granger loudly announced, his family turning to face them.

"Oh, Hermione dear," Molly stated, going to hug her, "We'll see you on Christmas, yes?" Hermione nodded, smiling.

"Bye Hermione." Charlie waved.

"I'll see you in a few days!" Ginny said.

"Later then!" grinned Ron. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were moving towards the barrier and the Order was preparing to leave as well. Hermione glanced at her parents and then frantically back at Harry. He looked at his own group and then sadly at her. What were they going to do? Give a personal goodbye right here in the open?

"Bye," he murmured, not daring to move towards her. Behind him Ron laughed.

"Hermione," her mother called.

"I—" she began.

"Hey Harry!" shouted Tonks.

"Bye Harry." Hermione quietly bid him, dejectedly turning to catch up with her family.

* * *

"Hey dad—is Bill back yet?" Ron questioned as they walked through Grimmauld Place's front door. They were the last ones to enter. Mr. Weasley sighed heavily.

"Not yet, Ron," he told him.

"Oh," he said in a small voice.

"Dinner! I'm starved! Should I start making it?" Tonks commented from ahead.

"No! I-I mean, I've got it, dear. We've got to settle everyone in first." Molly responded.

"I'll be off then. Got my business to attend to. Everyone, Harry." Mundungus remarked, giving a mock bow. Harry was snapped out of his almost mournful daze, having recollected memories of Sirius.

"Ginny, Ron, same rooms. Go on, take everything up," Molly commanded, when Mundungus had left the house. Harry made to follow them before she added, "Oh Harry, _your _room is on the third landing. Arthur will show you where." Harry looked swiftly at Ron, who was on the third step of the staircase.

"Yes boys, separate rooms. I know it's a new concept for you." Harry started up with Arthur behind him. (Moments later Elphias Doge entered the house).

"Remus isn't here at the moment, as you've probably guessed." Mr. Wealsey pointed out.

"Would it do me any good to ask where he is?" Harry wondered.

"I'd say no, though it's not because I'm not at will to tell you. It's that I don't know. It's rather hard keeping up with the Order's whereabouts." When they reached the third landing, Arthur led him to the very last room. He took out a key to unlock the door.

"I'm up here with Remus." Harry mentioned. (Lupin's was the first room on the landing).

"Yes. It was decided you should have your own room, permanent room." Arthur pushed the door open.

"Permanent?" Harry repeated.

"You're here enough." Mr. Weasley smiled. Harry walked inside. It was a spacious, exquisite room. A large window covered one wall, and there was a black fireplace directly across from the king sized four poster. (The bed was noticeably missing hangings). There was a grand bookshelf, dazzling desk and chair, and three doors, one near the mantel, one near the bed, and one near the bookshelf.

"I know two lead to a bathroom and closet. Which ones they are is a different story."

Arthur mentioned.

"It's… really nice." Harry lamely finished, still gazing around.

"It was Sirius' old room," he quietly reported. The boy looked at him.

"We thought you'd…." There was silence for a moment.

"I do. Thanks, Mr. Weasley." Harry said, running a hand over the bed.

Harry walked into Ron's room some minutes later.

"Can't say I'll miss you too much Harry. I'm going to enjoy having all this to myself!" Ron announced, arms crossed and grinning. The twin beds were gone and replaced by a much larger one.

"Did you—" Harry began.

"Make them into one? Yep!"

"Wow. McGonagall would be proud," he smiled. Many voices then floated up from downstairs.

"Sounds like more company." Ron said. Ginny strolled in.

"Do either of you want to play chess until supper's ready?" she pondered.

"No," Ron scoffed, not bothering to even look at her, "So Harry, we'll see your room, yeah?"

"Well if you're going to be an ass Ron, then I might as well just leave! I'll go ask Charlie!" huffed Ginny, balling her fists. She turned sharply on her heels and two distinct pops were heard: two new figures had appeared.

"Leaving so soon Gin?" asked George.

"What did our younger, dumber brother do now?" Fred inquired.

"M-me," sputtered Ron as his siblings quickly hugged, "Dumb!"

"Great to see you too, bro!" grinned Fred.

"Ah, Harry," said George, walking over and clapping him on the back, "The dementor slayer!"

"Oh God." Harry mumbled, turning a bit red.

"Hey, that's big news, that is! You shouldn't be ashamed!"

"I'm not. It's just I don't want to be made out as some fantastic hero," he explained.

"Well, you are. You should be used to it by now!" said Fred.

"Yeah, and once again I had help!"

"He sure did!" Ron added.

"Of course Ron. And what was your patronus? A spider? Maybe a butterfly?" Fred remarked.

"Piss off!" The others all laughed.

"Only joking, ickle Ronnie!" grinned Fred, hitting his brother on the shoulder.

"Can we come to the shop tomorrow?" asked Ginny.

"We'd be offended if you didn't," replied George.

"Cool."

"Wood came in the other day." Fred noted.

"Really? _Oliver _Wood?" Harry questioned, smiling.

"That's the one," confirmed George, "He said it was about time he stepped foot in our infamous shop! We also told him about you making captain, Harry. Right proud, he was."

"Said he expected nothing else but the shop to come out of the likes of us. He congratulated us on the genius of our products though." Fred remarked.

"Did he buy anything?" Harry wondered.

"No, but we gave him a lovely parting gift."

"A tail," said George. They laughed.

"Who'd you come in with?" Ron asked.

"Lupin, Vance, and the new one, Priggs." Harry gladly noted that Remus was back.

"Is there gonna be a meeting tonight? Because if there is, we can sit in on it! Of age and all that!…" Ron excitedly pointed out.

"Speak for yourself," grumbled Ginny.

"Happy to burst your bubble Ron, but there was a meeting yesterday." Fred told him.

"Damn."

"Face it—they schedule the meetings around the times you lot aren't here," said George.

"One day, I swear…" vowed Ron. It was quiet for a second before Harry's stomach growled. He gave a nervous chuckle.

"Too right Harry! Let's go eat! We can entertain the undoubtedly full kitchen!" Fred commented. The five walked out of the room.

"Hermione not here?" George wondered.

"No. She'll be here on Christmas," answered Ginny.

* * *

A/N:Gasps: My Lord! _Why _did this chapter seem to take forever to write! WTF man? My frickin' fingers hurt! Anyway, I'll post again on Monday. I think there will only be 3 or 4 chapters when they're out of school; I hate writing for them when they're out of school. -- FOOD! 


	18. Slime Spewing Chickens

A/N: Erm… okay. Nothing to say. Ha ha!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 18

The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Ginny ate breakfast with Remus and Charlie. Harry discovered that the door next to the fireplace was the bathroom, and the gigantic closet was by the bookshelf. Having retired late, he had been too tired to inspect the last door.

"Mum, we're going to Fred and George's place after breakfast." Ron said, when Molly entered the kitchen. (He had just had his third helping of scrambled eggs).

"Well, thank you for telling me so soon Ronald," replied Molly, "How do you plan on getting there?"

"Floo."

"I see…. No."

"Huh?!"

"Why not?!" demanded Ginny.

"You'll have all vacation to go to your brothers' little franchise!" she remarked.

"Yes, but we want to go today!" Ron insisted.

"Well _I _want you to stay here and help clean."

"Clean what?! The house isn't dirty!"

"Maybe not the only two rooms you see Ron, but this happens to be a very large home! Two years later and it still isn't finished. So, no—you will stay and be of assistance." Molly explained. Ron scowled profoundly and Ginny frowned.

"Really Molly, they don't have to stay here today," said Remus, who sat in between Charlie and Harry.

"Nonsense Remus! You can't possibly do it alone. And you haven't had time lately with your Order duties."

"So we're just the Order's cleaning crew." Ron grumbled. His mother glared at him, hands on her hips.

"You will meet me in the drawing room in an hour. I'll tell you what you'll be doing," Molly venomously said. Ron didn't dare make eye contact, "Now, Harry, love—you don't _have _to listen to me, but I would hope—"

"I'll clean too, Mrs. Wealsey," he assured. She gave a small smile. _There's no point in going by myself_, he thought.

"Want to help us Charlie?" Ron asked, when his mother and Remus had gone.

"Sorry Ron, but I've got other matters to deal with!," he smiled, standing up. He used his wand to put the dishes in the sink, "See you later!"

"One day, I'm simply going to run away." Ron said when they were the only ones at the table.

Harry was assigned to help Remus clear out the Black's master bedroom. Apparently no one had stepped foot in it for (at least) five years. The room was massive and gave off an immensely eerie feeling; every single thing was black, even the linen. Remus reported its size would be useful.

"Um… Remus?" Harry prompted, after being shaken by what seemed a real severed foot under the dusty bed.

"Yes Harry?" he responded, a concentrated frown on his face. He had his wand pointed directly at the vanity table and was preparing to open one of its drawers.

"In my room, or… _Sirius' _old room… t-there's an extra door. Do you know what it is?"

"Oh, that…," A sad smile dawned on Lupin's fact, "Quite clever, actually, but that was Sirius for you. It was an old storage room of some sort, originally, but he bewitched it to his liking. If you go inside, you'll find another door. It leads to any other place in the house, one way meaning you can't go back the way you came. You merely imagine the desired location, and it shall be on the other side."

"Brilliant." Harry muttered, half smiling.

"It was definitely useful." Remus returned to his task at hand. Harry began to scrub a filthy wall as the other man dealt with whatever horrors the vanity table held. He had a session with Arthur Weasley at about four o'clock. Not for the first time, Harry wondered just what exactly Albus Dumbledore had told the group of wizards instructed to help him learn to protect himself. He hadn't mentioned tbe prophecy, had he? They didn't know of it, right? But then _how _had the headmaster gotten them to agree if they didn't know Harry's very life hung in the balance?

"Er, Remus?" Harry began.

"Yes?" He was kicking something that had started to scurry across the floor.

"When Dumbledore enlisted help for me, regarding Voldemort… what did he say?" He had stopped washing. Remus turned to face him properly.

"Well… he said that you needed to learn how to defend yourself against Voldemort… needed advanced magic. He said Voldemort has proved that he'll stop at nothing to have you in his clutches, and if and when it happens again, you need to be ready," he somberly relayed. Harry nodded slowly. So, the secret was still his to tell. Remus was studying him with a pained expression and Harry guessed an uncomfortable talk was on the verge.

"I'm… going to get a bucket of clean water," he said, picking the pail up. He left the bedroom and headed towards the kitchen. The prophecy burden seemed to only grow heavier with each passing day. He assumed that if it was still kept by February, he would die from the duress of it.

As Harry came out of the kitchen with fresh, hot water, he heard two voices. Up ahead the corridor stood Snape and Alastor Moody, speaking. Harry rolled his eyes. He had just seen the greasy professor two days earlier—couldn't he get a break?! Moody put a distorted hand on Snape's shoulder (causing him to grimace slightly) and then walked in Harry's direction.

"Potter," he greeted, patting him on the arm and sending water flying. He walked a little farther and went through a side door. Harry ignored the fact that Snape remained in his exact spot as he started moving once more. If he was lucky, Snape had simply forgotten how to walk. He passed him.

"Potter." No such luck.

"What?" Harry replied, keeping the vexation in his voice to a bare minimum.

"I have a message for you from Professor Dumbledore. He asked me to tell you that he will be here the day after tomorrow for your lesson."

"When?"

"The time has seemed to slip my mind. Perhaps you will merely have to wait around all day and find out that way." Snape smiled cunningly. Harry gritted his teeth and his grip on the handle of the pail tightened.

"Well, you can tell him my anticipation for it will surely cause me to lose sleep," he replied. Harry wasn't truly annoyed with Dumbledore; he just wanted to hurt the messenger.

"Amazing, Potter. People actually bother to help you combat your little problems and you still continue to show disrespect and ungratefulness. Your arrogance never wavers, does it? I cannot move past the similarity between you and your dear father."

"It's people's interferences with my life that gets me in those situations in the first place!" Harry angrily told him, half snarling. Snape looked at him crossly for a moment before icily saying:

"Do not think that because of _anything _that has happened to you, I will feel any differently about you Potter. Whether you're destined to clash with the Dark Lord or not, you will evoke no pity out of me." Snape then left Grimmauld Place with a rapid turn and swish of his cloak. Harry stood there, mouth completely agape.

The one thing Harry had learned since his first year about Severus Snape was that he knew much more than he let on. He also had a tendency to say crucial things and refuse to elaborate on them. What did Snape know about Harry and Voldemort? Did he know about the prophecy? Had Dumbledore only told him something about it? _Maybe he just guessed, _Harry frenziedly thought, _maybe he noticed how Voldemort always singles me out and put two and two together_. He also couldn't forget that Snape was an ex-Death Eater. He had been in Voldemort's inner circle and knew numerous dark facts. But even that wasn't a great argument; Voldemort to this day had no idea what the prophecy had said.

Harry made his way back to the master bedroom and Remus. He was shaking faintly and didn't know what to think.

* * *

Snape regrettably returned in the evening. Harry avoided him at all costs and had been somewhat subdued since his earlier encounter with the Potions master. Fred and George showed up for dinner and his mood didn't change much, even when they set the main dish on fire. (Mrs. Weasley had been livid). The next day Ron, Ginny, and Harry managed to go to Diagon Alley to visit the joke shop, despite concerns for safety coming from a few Order members. (It was decided they would be secretly followed by two wizards, just in case). Ron was relying on it to shake Harry from his state. They left an hour before noon, using the Floo Network, and arrived in the upstairs office, if an office was a suitable name to call it. The only business-like piece of furniture was a desk, which had been painted gold and scarlet. Besides that, two sofas, extremely irregular lamps, statues missing important, various body parts, dragon skinned beanbags, an obnoxious rug, a coffee table with seven legs, and a barrel full of Honeydukes' sweets filled the room. 

"I love this place," smiled Harry, forgetting Snape. Ron walked over and grabbed a handful of candy.

"At least they have the sense not to fill this up with _their _candy," he observed. A pop was heard and a second later, a twin was present.

"Here are you?," he questioned, "Good. Come downstairs, we've got a few things to show you."

"Hey, George," Ron began as they descended the stairs. Harry gave a small smile, still not able to tell them apart, "Can we go by your flat when we're done here?"

"First, you ask to impose on us while we're working. Then, you eat our sweets. Now, you want to invade our home. What else do you want Ron? The clothes off my back?" George said. Ginny and Harry grinned; Ron glowered.

They saw Fred at the counter, just having sold a large box to a young customer.

"Be sure to wreck havoc!," he grinned after the boy, "Ah, so you've made it." He came from behind the counter and joined them. There were a couple of people milling around the store.

"We've decided to let you three have your Christmas presents early." Fred told them.

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"Pick out anything you like and it's yours," clarified George.

"Really?!"

"Wicked!" cried Ron. There was then a loud "poof" heard somewhere in the back of the shop.

"I do believe it's your turn Georgie." Fred noted.

"I'm on it," his twin answered, going to help the poor browser.

"Right then. Would you like to start looking?" They didn't need to be told twice. The three of them shot off in different directions, smiles on their faces.

Ten minutes later they drifted to the middle of the shop, coming together.

"Did you notice how they use the word 'victim' in the directions?" Ginny mentioned to Harry, half grinning. Ron then walked up with a purple, medium sized bag.

"Language Pellets," he proudly proclaimed, holding it up, "All you do is chuck it at someone's head, and five minutes later they're speaking gibberish!"

"How long?"

"Three days! Malfoy's going to be my first test subject!"

"What's this?" Harry pondered, picking up what looked like a tiny megaphone.

"_That _is a newer product," Fred replied, coming in from the left, "You tap it with your wand, say someone's name, speak into it, and out comes that person's voice."

"Cool," observed Ginny. Ron took it from Harry and whipped out his wand.

"Severus Snape," he excitedly said. He put his mouth to the speaker, "I have no life and disgusting hair." It was indeed Snape's voice. They all laughed.

"Granted, it will only be useful in certain circumstances," said Fred. Harry took it back. It was called the Person Personifier. Did it work if the person was dead?….

The twins closed shop for an hour at twelve and went to eat lunch with Ron, Harry, and Ginny at a fast food place in London. While walking through Diagon Alley, they (Harry) received many stares, and the word 'dementor' was heard. When they returned, the three of them stayed for a few more hours, strolling the aisles and watching Fred & George sell items. Ginny ended up selecting Beauty Powder, a substance that if came in contact with a person's skin, caused him or her to erupt in hideous, colorful boils. Harry chose the Person Personifier.

He sat in the office with Ron & Ginny, talking and munching on sweets, when Fred came in clapping his hands.

"All right, you lot have been here practically all day! It's time for you to leave," he remarked.

"Leave?" questioned Ron, surprised.

"Yes."

"Well then can we go over to your flat?"

"No, you can't go there, for about the 20th time."

"Why not?!"

"Because Fred has a date and needs to get ready for it," George responded, coming in and carrying a box full of rubber chickens, "These keep spewing slime, Fred."

"A date?" grinned Ginny.

"Yes, and it's not too far off," commented Fred.

"With?" Harry probed.

"Angelina," said George. Fred gave a savvy smile.

"Aaaaw!" remarked Ginny.

"Fair enough," smiled Ron.

"Tell her former teammates say hi." Harry said.

"Yes, yes, okay, okay. Have a jolly time getting back! See you tomorrow." Fred said, giving them powder.

"Oi! You! Drop the head!" George yelled to someone, just outside the office.

"Oh shite," the other twin mumbled, going to help.

"Can you imagine what Hermione would've said about how we spent the day?," Ron inquired as his sister tossed powder into the fireplace, "I can practically hear her nagging!"

"Yeah…." Harry mumbled, giving a false smile. Hermione.

Harry stepped out of the hearth after Ginny, wiping himself clean. They were in the sitting room.

"You know, I don't know if I got to thank you properly Ginny." Harry said.

"For?" she pondered.

"Helping out that Saturday at Hogsmeade."

"Oh please, I didn't really do much. I ended up going for help with Colin!"

"So? You still needed bravery to deal with the dementors in the first place. Thanks for not caving in on me… none of you did. There is no way I would have made it without the DA's help," he explained.

"Years of being around you has thickened my skin, Harry." Ginny grinned. He smiled back and she was forced to turn away, appalled that she felt like blushing.

"So… why isn't Ron here yet?" she asked after an interval of silence.

"I'm not sure." Harry said, uncrossing his arms.

"It should _not _take this long."

"I know. You think something happened to him?"

"I hope not!" After three more minutes and no Ron, they began to panic.

"Where could he be?! Harry—what if he ended up in… the wrong hands?!" Ginny cried, wringing her own hands wretchedly.

"I'll go get some Order members and your parents," he quickly offered. Suddenly a long figure came plummeting out of the fireplace, coughing and gasping.

"Ron!" Ginny yelled, crouching on the floor and hugging him.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?," Harry asked, helping him up, "We were going mad!"

"I got lost." Ron answered breathlessly.

"Lost?" the two repeated in unison.

"Well, not so much lost: I wound up at the Grimald's house."

"Who?" inquired Ginny.

"This old married couple. I guess I wasn't clear enough and came out of the wrong fireplace. The woman went nutters and started beating me with a broom, screaming about Death Eaters! I tried to reason with her as best I could while protecting my head. Finally the man believed me, I guess, and gave me some powder, yelling at me to hurry up while he held his wife back. I'm lucky she couldn't get to her wand! God, it was traumatizing," explained Ron. Harry snorted and Ginny held back a grin.

"A-as long as y-you're okay, mate." Harry commented, struggling not to laugh.

"Hey! It was anything _but _funny!," he insisted, "I almost died!"

* * *

Harry walked into the kitchen the next day only to find most all of the Weasleys. It was about three o'clock and Dumbledore had yet to appear for the lesson. Last night Harry had lied in bed and thought about Hermione for two hours. It had been both comforting and hard. Christmas was only a couple of days away, and then he'd be able to see her, but it currently seemed like it was a century away; Harry wanted her _now_. He hadn't seen her in three days and was missing her remarkably. 

"I just want to know what is going on! You've been acting strangely at times for quite a few weeks now, don't think I haven't noticed! I want to know what it is!" Ron shouted as Harry neared the kitchen.

"Ron," began Molly, "I—"

"Why should I tell you?! You're just going to overreact, as usual!" Ginny countered back.

"No I won't! I have a right to know!" Ron exclaimed. Harry walked cautiously into the kitchen. The table separated Ron and Ginny, and both were visibly angry.

"No you don't! It's _my _life! But fine! If you want to know so much, _Ron_, I'll tell you! I am going out with Colin Creevey, all right? And I have been for awhile!" Ron's jaw dropped.

"You _what_?!" he demanded.

"Am Colin's girlfriend!" she said.

"But you… that's… you can't!"

"Oh can't I?! I'm not eleven anymore, in case you've forgotten!"

"Dad! Did you know about this?!" Ron remarked, turning to his father.

"Um, well, yes." Arthur admitted.

"And you're _letting _her?! Mum, did you?"

"Yes, dear." Molly responded, sighing.

"Charlie?" Ron inquired.

"Yeah."

"Fred? George?" he stated, beginning to sound desperate.

"Yep!"

"Of course!" they chimed.

"Harry!," Ron boomed, sounding hopeful again, "You had no clue, right?"

"Er… well, the thing is Ron—" Harry awkwardly said.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?! About my own sister?!"

"If it makes you feel any better, Bill doesn't know either Ron." Ginny coldly informed him. There was angry silence before:

"I'll kill him. When we get back to Hogwarts, I'll kill him!" Ron promised.

"Don't you touch him!"

"Really now Ron…" prompted Arthur.

"Don't have a fit, little brother! You don't want to go to Azkaban, do you?" remarked George.

"George and I have accepted it. In fact, we even sent Colin a nice Christmas gift before we came here." Fred mischievously grinned.

"He should get it tomorrow! Though, I do think Bludger was hesitant to deliver it." (Bludger was the twin's owl).

"We assured Bludger _he'd _be safe."

"What did you do?," Ginny asked, pale, "What did you do? What did you send Colin?!" Fred and George laughed, which caused Ron to grin happily.

"Mum! Mum! Dad! Punish them!," she pleaded, sounding frantic, "They've sent him something deadly!"

"It's not _that _deadly! And we can't be punished—we're 19!" replied George.

"Too above your parents now, are you?!" Molly wondered, puffing up.

"Boys, whatever you did, undo it." Arthur commanded. Ginny had begun to wail and Ron looked satisfied. Charlie tried to comfort his sister as Mrs. Weasley lashed out at Fred and George. Harry slipped out unnoticed and with a smile on his face. He sympathized with Colin and hoped he had enough sense to not open the package. Anything sent by the Weasley twins should be destroyed upon sight.

Harry figured he would go have tea with Remus, and unwillingly wait for his session with Dumbledore.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I want to clarify something about Floo. In my story, Grimmauld Place is not directly connected to the network, meaning someone just can't come as they please. It has to be set up in advance. Otherwise, anyone could just show up at Grimmauld Place. Same thing goes for the joke shop. Yeah, so, that was it. Chapter 19 on Friday. Ciao. 


	19. Christmas Rendezvous

A/N: Guess who rocks? That's right—you do **chantal-j.t**!! Yeah! ::Coughs:: Okay, I'll shut up now. Oh, should I go back and actually name the chapters?? I was thinking… OOH! That reminds me!!! For some reason, I can't ever chapter 9 to show up!! It's gone missing! I think I'm going to have to rewrite it and that pisses me off!!!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 19

It was Christmas day, at last. On Christmas Eve Harry had been in a good mood, relishing in the fact that he would see Hermione the following day, and that is _was _Christmas. Tonks spent most of the day with them, entertaining without truly meaning to. Ron received a Christmas poem from Luna that was both strange and personal. His ears seemed to be permanently red and the others could not stop their mirthful taunting. Harry also used the day to try out Sirius' magical door; he found he loved it. He startled many people by, apparently, appearing out of nowhere (or one of a room's walls), and would indulge no one with the secret to it. (Well, that wasn't entirely true—he caved in and told Ron). They all went to bed with anticipation and awoke exceptionally early the next day.

At seven, Harry found a large amount of gifts on the foot of his bed. In fact, it seemed large than usual. He took the blanket on which they rested and bundled it up, dragging it out of his room and down the flight of stairs to Ron's room. Ginny was already there, and when they saw him, they tore into their gifts. He had plenty of things from the Wealseys, obviously, and a good amount from Order members (including Hagrid, Tonks, Kingsley, Dumbledore, Mundungus, and Remus). Something new was the amount of parcels sent by the DA, noticeably the Gryffindors.

"Ooh! Harry! Thank you!" Ginny cried as she opened her new Quidditch set.

"No problem," he responded, taking the wrapping off Neville's package.

"Dear Merlin!," Ron raucously exclaimed, running a hand unbelievingly over the beautiful orange volume, "Harry, this is… why… the whole team autographed this, and there w-was only one shipment of these!" It was a book about the history of the Chudley Cannons.

"You're welcome Ron." Harry smiled. He then noticed a parcel from Parvati. He opened it with just as much curiosity as anything else and found a very nice watch.

"Wow. I-it's great. I'll have to thank her," he noted.

"Who's it from?" inquired Ginny.

"Parvati."

"Really?," grinned Ron, "Well, if I didn't know any better—"

"Shut up Ron." Harry instructed, rolling his eyes.

Fred and George showed their faces at nine, just when Molly finished a pleasant breakfast for the entire house. The kids thanked the present givers for their keepsakes and ate merrily alongside everyone else. In the back of Harry's mind was the reminder that Hermione would come to Grimmauld Place in a few hours. When they were done in the kitchen, they divulged themselves in their new possessions. Ron pointed out Harry's teller of time to his brothers and gave his ill conceived, stupid opinions of what it meant; Harry felt like throttling him.

Fifteen minutes before noon, Remus came into the lounge where the five of them were.

"Harry, a word," he requested, standing in the doorway. Harry got up and followed him out the room.

"Yeah?" he wondered. The older man sighed.

"I hate to do this to you, but… you've got a lesson today. With me," he revealed.

"What? T-today? On _Christmas_?" Harry inquired.

"Yes, unfortunately. I know it's terrible timing, but that's the way the schedule worked out."

"And I can't skip this one time?," he exasperatedly implored, "Dumbledore won't let me or something?" He thought of Hermione's near arrival.

"Harry, Albus says that you cannot afford—" Remus grimly began.

"Forget it," Harry forcefully said, "I'll go get my wand." He turned and rapidly left. Remus waited a little while before going after Harry, feeling a sorrowful compassion for the boy.

* * *

Hermione stepped out of the hearth in Ginny's room, exhaling. She had come at her prearranged time of twelve o'clock. As she removed her shrunken luggage from her pockets and magicked it back to normal, a radiant smile crept on her face. Harry was here, somewhere in this house. Her days of isolation from him had been unconditional torture, although it had been pleasing to spend time with her family. She'd have to find a way to get him alone, sooner rather than later (least she explode), and demonstrate how much she had craved to see him.

"Hermione!" Ginny said, walking into the room and spotting her. She gave her a quick hug.

"How has your day been so far?" Hermione asked.

"Fantastic! Yours?"

"Good, but I'm glad to be here!"

"We'll go tell everyone you're here. And after that we can go exchange gifts—we've only got yours left! We had a beast of a breakfast and are having a huge dinner at five." Ginny spilled. Hermione nodded.

"Harry and Ron will be happy to know you're here," she continued. She then looked as if she remembered something, "Oh, wait… Harry went with Remus someplace, and we don't know where." Hermione felt her heart plummet slightly. She wouldn't see Harry, and God knew for how long.

"Oh," she said, trying to conceal her bitter disappointment.

"Well come on. I'll tell you about my brothers' attempt to murder Colin." Ginny remarked.

Remus shot a deep purple hex at Harry, his face blank. Harry clenched his teeth and grunted, deflecting it, but barely. He had no time to defend himself against the second spell and was hit in the arm. (It did no physical damage but did cause pain).

"Damn it!" he growled, cradling his arm. Remus sighed and lowered his wand.

"Harry—" he started.

"I don't want to do this Remus." Harry stubbornly told him.

"I know you don't, nor do I. But… I don't want to see you at Voldemort's mercy either." After a few moments of silence Harry said:

"But we've been at it for _40 _minutes!"

"I know. Just one more round, that's all I ask." Remus stated. Harry nodded, not looking at him. Lupin moved back to his respectful position and fired his first hex. Harry had his brows furrowed and blocked it, the next as well, then hurled his own, trying to imagine Voldemort.

Harry walked by the sitting room, troubled. He had just checked most of the upper portion of the mansion and could not find his friends. Had Hermione made it? His next plan was to go ask Mrs. Weasley if she knew their whereabouts. On the inside, Hermione saw a tall boy with dark hair pass the entrance. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Oi, Harry!" called George.

"Don't bother looking _in _rooms, do you?" Fred shouted. Ron and Ginny laughed. He came back, saw them sitting comfortably on the couches, and smiled. Hermione felt her pulse dangerously spike and her body doing cartwheels on the inside. Had he gotten more appealing? His smile suggested so. She couldn't believe he was so close but yet so far; she wasn't able to kiss him _now _like she wanted.

"Look who the dragon dragged in." Ron pointed out, waving to Hermione. His eyes met hers and a million emotions seemed to erupt between them. Harry sent the message that as soon as it was permitted, he wanted her to himself. Hermione got it and bit her lip to stop an oncoming, overjoyed grin. Their eye contact was not too long, or evident, but it was enough to convey their desire for one another.

"Hi Hermione," he cheerfully greeted.

"Harry," she answered amiably.

"Where were you? It's been almost an hour!" Ron protested.

"Ah, just stupid stuff really. Nothing important." Harry replied, shrugging. He sat next to Ron and across from the girls on the opposite couch. The twins sat on the boys' sofa's arms.

"Right…"

"Well, we were going to trade presents now, so you're in time," informed Ginny.

"Oh. Well, Hermione—I left yours in my room." Harry said. How perfect was that?! When they were finished here, they could escape to his room and finally make up for lost time. Oh, it worked too well in their favor.

"It's okay," she told him, realizing this, "We can get it later!"

"Sure," he agreed, feeling a smile tug at his lips. Hermione then gave everyone their coinciding gifts, while receiving her own. She had already unwrapped Ginny's and was on the brink of opening the twins' when they started to laugh.

"Wow! Thanks Hermione!" George said.

"We're glad you're concerned about our behavior." Fred noted. They held up a book titled, _A Time To Laugh, A Time To Be Serious_. (It was written by a Muggle author).

"I think she's trying to tell you something," grinned Ginny.

"Go on, open ours. You'll find that Forge and I gave you a book as well," encouraged Fred. Hermione obeyed. It was a small novel with clouds and grass on the cover. It read: _So, You're Uptight_… **A Lesson on How to Relax**. Hermione pursed her lips and looked at the boys. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all laughed.

"How subtle," she remarked.

"We're concerned about your well being in turn, love," winked Fred.

"Happy Christmas from me and Gred!" George proclaimed. Hermione put it aside, scoffing in a good nature.

"Mine's the last one, since Harry's unreliable." Ron mentioned, a bit nervously. She grabbed the bag in which it was and took it out. Inside the red, rectangular box was a very graceful, attractive hairpin. It was a jeweled dragonfly, and appeared both pristine and expensive. Hermione gasped as Harry's mouth fell open. Ginny's face glowed.

"Ron!," Hermione breathed, "My God! It's… lovely! But… goodness—what, why—how?"'

"I thought of you when I saw it," he remarked, a light shade of red, "It's no big deal really. Just figured you should have it." Fred quirked an eyebrow at George and they smiled, knowingly.

"Thank you," she quietly said, meeting his gaze for only a second.

"Welcome." Ron half grinned. Harry continued to stare at the hair accessory. No one gave someone something that special without meaning something by it. What was Ron doing?

"That's like Harry's gift from Parvati." Ginny observed.

"Yeah, but Ron forgot to add a pair of his knickers!" smirked George.

"What?" Hermione sharply said.

"Parvati sent Harry a gift, though her _knickers _had _nothing _to do with it!" Ginny clarified.

"Oh. What, what'd she give you?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Ron held up Harry's wrist while Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. He looked at the ceiling.

"How nice." Hermione stated, gathering her presents. The truth was, however, she thought there was nothing nice about it.

"I'll go upstairs with you Hermione." Ginny volunteered.

"And we have to go find Dung. He has business to discuss with us," commented Fred.

"Uh, Ron." Harry prompted, while they all went their separate ways. He gave a short, meaningful glance to Hermione, letting her know he'd be in his room soon enough.

"Yeah?" the gangly redhead responded, standing up.

"So… Hermione's gift."

"Yeah," mumbled Ron, ears starting to alter colors.

"It—it looked like it… cost a good amount. I'm not saying you can't afford it or anything—"

"It _was _a lot. There was no way in hell I could have paid for all of it on my own! It's a good thing, having two successful brothers."

"Oh." Harry said. He now seemed to be at a loss for words. He looked at the carpet, hands in pockets.

"I got it for her because… well… I dunno. I've been a sodding prat to her sometimes, and the school year's halfway over…. Maybe it's time to show her that… I _do _care." Ron rationalized. Harry nodded, beginning to feel awful.

"So," smiled Ron, "What'd you get our bookworm?"

Harry closed his bedroom door and reached under his bed to collect Hermione's gift. He stared at it, but not critically. Ron's present had been a huge step, but not in the right direction, and not for the right person. There was suddenly a small knock on the door.

"Er, yeah," he called. Hermione walked in and quickly shut the door.

"Hi," she greeted shyly. Ginny had shown her Harry's room while he had been with Lupin.

"Hello again," he answered. He moved towards her, and Hermione just knew he was going to kiss her. The usual extreme excitement kicked in and then she saw the watch, sent by Parvati.

"So that's it?" Hermione asked, stopping him. She pointed at it.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed.

"Hmm." He looked at her for a moment and then smiled.

"You're not… jealous? Right?"

"No!," she insisted, folding her arms, "No…"

"Just making sure," he said, "Because that seems unlike—"

"It's just that she… _unnerves _me!," Hermione suddenly burst, "She obviously still likes you and she's sneaky about it. I know you say it was an accident, but there's always that feeling that she's going to ensnare you in her manipulative web and refuse to release you."

"Hermione," Harry plainly said, gazing at her, "Stop worrying about Parvati. You know how I feel about her and how I feel about you." He gave her a quick kiss, leaving her lips wanting more.

"Now Happy Christmas." Harry handed over her gift. Hermione took it and stripped everything away to behold a small container. Inside was a gold necklace that had a golden ball on its chain.

"Open it," he told her.

"Open it?" she repeated, surprised.

"The circle," he grinned. Hermione complied and exhaled loudly when it had been exposed. On the inside was a miniature universe. Galaxies, stars, and planets were all there.

"The universe." Harry presented.

"Harry—it's… beautiful," she sighed, eyes racking it over.

"It's really intricate. I'll never know how they did it."

"It doesn't matter—I love it." Hermione slipped it on, closing the orb.

"That's always good news," he noted, smiling.

"Now I've got to give you your gift," she told him.

"You already have!"

"Well, actually, this is the second one."

"Oooh, two parts! I like it already."

"Yes," smiled Hermione, "This one is of a more… _physical _nature." He perked up.

"I _really _like it," grinned Harry. She moved in closer.

"I think I'll enjoy it just as much as you will." Hermione remarked.

"Oh?" he wondered, gathering her in his arms.

"Yes. It's been far too long since we—" Her sentence was short lived due to Harry's lips covering hers. Ah yes—his kiss. Only days apart and it was already sweeter. Her hands went to his neck as their lip lock became more profound.

Hermione had decided on her first night home that she wanted her relationship with Harry to go to the next level, which meant snogs. Kissing him was wonderful, but it didn't seem to be enough any longer. His scent and lips drove her crazy, which led to her body screaming at her to let them get even closer. She wanted to let his hands roam wherever they pleased, and was very curious to find out what his tongue in her mouth would feel like. Besides, Harry had been patient.

Hermione's hands moved into his hair and she kissed him harder. _All right Granger, this is it. I sincerely doubt he'll object! _she lectured. With her fingers intertwined with black locks, Hermione slowly licked his lips.

Dear Merlin! She had just, just!…. So was that it, then? Was she giving him permission to… go further? _God please yes_, he groaned in his mind. Assuming this was it, Harry's tongue slipped inside her open mouth. A firecracker seemed to detonate, sending more heat and lust into their systems. Their hormones jumped up the scale colossally with that one action. Harry explored her mouth thoroughly and eagerly, coming in contact with her own tongue two or three times.

Hermione's grip on his hair tightened and she moaned quietly. He took notice of this and felt exhilarated. Harry's hands then went to her hips and he guided her back up against a wall. He pressed his body more firmly into hers, amazed that they were finally snogging. Their tongues were now passionately running over and into one another. Oh God, this was extraordinary.

Harry's hands soon found themselves underneath her shirt, shaking slightly. He was actually touching her flesh, her erotic, inviting flesh. He ran over her flat stomach tentatively at first, but then madly when discovering how fantastic it was, all the while kissing her with everything he had. He came in contact with her bra after awhile, and his hands dropped down a bit. Oh, how easy it would be…. But no, he had to control himself somewhat.

Hermione let out another moan, a louder one, when she felt Harry's hands on her skin. It felt horribly right and made her shiver with delight. Hell, the fact that he had her pinned against the wall made her shiver with delight. Her hold on his hair was now virtually impossible to break but neither noticed.

Harry finally broke the kiss, lips throbbing, which elicited a small gasp from Hermione. His hands went back down to her hips and stroked them, as he viciously attacked her neck. Hermione tried to use the moment (in which he _wasn't _trying to devour her face) to gather her bearings, but found it immensely difficult. She hardly had any breath, her heart was beating like an insane drum, and she couldn't stop thinking of his tongue, or his hands for that matter. Harry groped and kissed like a pro (though only truly having snogged one other girl), knowing all the tricks to make her tremble. Goodness, even his neck kisses were tantalizing! He was doing sort of a sucking thing that threatened to render her utterly helpless, allowing Harry to do whatever he wanted.

"Harry." Hermione inhaled, putting a hand on his chest. (She still had a burning desire to see what it looked like, but had absolutely no intentions of viewing it now). He looked at her searchingly. All right—so he wasn't as worn out as she; Harry personally had the stamina to investigate the beauty that was Hermione for hours. She gave him one last intense kiss, bidding his tongue farewell, and pulled away.

"I'm going to collapse," she reported. He sighed and nodded, realizing it was over, for the time being anyway. Harry moved to his bed and fell back on it, arms outspread. He had a gigantic grin on his face. Hermione smiled and went to join him, finding space in the grove of his right arm. She snuggled against him and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Happy Christmas Harry," she said. Indeed it had been. Furthermore, besides his Firebolt, that snog had been the best Christmas gift Harry had ever received.

* * *

A/N: Ha ha! I apologize for the 30 page snog scene. Lol. I promise, they won't be that long again. Second note—I should probably mention that Buckbeak is no longer at Grimmauld Place. He was set free during their sixth year, whatever that means. Use your imagination. I'll post again either Monday or Tuesday. Nerf!! 


	20. Fudge Fuddled

A/N: I feel pretty! I feel pretty! Okay, not really, it's just a song. Anyway! I _do _feel thankful towards my new reviewers: **MuzzyOlorea, Jen KenLee, Riley17**. You dudes frickin' ROCK!! ::Clears throat::

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 20

Ginny gushed over Hermione's necklace the following day. She said it was marvelous.

"Both Ron and Harry gave you exceptional presents," Ginny remarked, giving the necklace back, "Do you think either one is trying to tell you something?"

"No!," Hermione replied, not meeting Ginny's eyes, "No! T-they're my best friends Gin, t-that's all. Nothing more." Ginny studied her for a moment and then said:

"Are you… still sort of stuck on Harry?" Hermione looked at her and then away, flustered.

"Yeah… you could say that," she quietly said, beginning to play nervously with her hair.

"I know it's hard Hermione, trust me. Harry's a great guy, and it may seem impossible but you'll eventually get over it."

"Over _what_, exactly?"

"The crushing feeling that he's unattainable. But hey, then you find that one person and everything's all right again." Ginny relayed.

"Sure." Hermione muttered, gazing at the floor.

Ron moved his bishop, making Ginny frown. There went another one of her pawns. Why was he so skilled at this game?! The Weasley siblings sat in the library, playing chess, along with Harry and Hermione. Harry was doing Potions homework and Hermione had her nose stuck in one of the room's books. With the other two absorbed in their match, Harry and Hermione were able to steal secretive, wistful glances at each other. It sort of became a game, usually ending with both returning to their task at hand, grinning. Neither could stop thinking about yesterday's escapade.

"Hey Harry." Ron started.

"What?" he demanded, sounding startled.

"Uh… just wanted to know if you wanted to play Quidditch."

"Today? Here?!" Ginny wondered. Her brother looked at her in an annoyed fashion.

"Well, obviously not! There's not enough room on the grounds, and I'm waiting for more sunlight," he explained.

"Forget that you may attract unwanted attention." Hermione mumbled. Ginny smiled.

"No, we'll have to go to the Burrow one day." Ron observed, not having heard the last comment.

"All right." Harry agreed. A piercing shout, one of Mrs. Weasley's, was then heard. The four Gryffindors' heads shot towards the door, intrigued. Moments later they were rushing to the entrance of Grimmauld Place. At the foot of the staircase stood Arthur, Molly, Fred, George and Percy Weasley. Molly had tears in her eyes and it appeared as if she had just given Percy a suffocating embrace. Mr. Weasley's face was expressionless, but the twins had no trouble showing their irritation.

"Father." Percy humbly stated, sticking a hand out. Arthur accepted it and said in a formal voice:

"Son."

"Look who else decided to pop up." George steely remarked, referring to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Ron looked speechless, and Ginny, uncertain.

"Hello Ron, Ginny." Percy warmly greeted.

"P-P-Percy," she stammered. He gave his sister an awkward hug. The trio moved near the twins.

"We just showed up for lunch and this… _brother_, was here." Fred reported. Hermione bit her lip, feeling the palpable tension.

"Fred, George, Ron—you're all right?" Percy recognized, nodding at Ron.

"Smashing." George bluntly replied.

"I hear about your shop all the time." Molly was watching her children exchange words with a desperate anticipation.

"Do you now?" Fred inquired, arms folded. The third eldest Weasley child then turned to the only two not related to him.

"Hermione, Harry," he greeted.

"How are you, Percy." Hermione slowly responded. Harry didn't bother saying anything. He had never completely forgiven Percy for encouraging Ron to stop being his friend.

"I hope you all had a grand Christmas?" said Percy.

"It was nice, yes." Arthur told him.

"You would've known had you been here." George muttered, only loud enough for those right next to him to hear.

"I got you all gifts. They're at, m-my flat," he noted.

"Are you hungry dear?," Molly pressed, "You must be. Come into the kitchen for lunch, everyone. You can tell us about your job—everything."

"Is Charlie here at the moment? Is Bill still on… his mission?" Percy asked as he let his mother lead him away. Arthur and Ginny followed.

"I don't know if I'm hungry anymore." Fred pointed out.

"Why are you still so angry with him?" Hermione wondered.

"Because he brutally bashed our family! _His _family!"

"Everyone deserves a second chance, and you're right—you _are _family," she meekly mentioned. There was silence and then Ron sighed. Shrugging, he went towards the kitchen. Hermione was next, and then a dawdling Harry. He didn't _have _to talk…. Finally, Fred & George trudged after all the others, even if it was grudgingly.

The rest of the vacation passed by too quickly. Ron had tried to get his Quidditch plan approved, but it was rejected by more than one adult. And they always used the whole "safety" excuse. (Ron wanted to scream from the rooftops that Voldemort wouldn't be at the Burrow, but sulked in his murky anger as an alternative). There were two more Order meetings and the kids consecutively missed both.

"What is the point of being of age if it doesn't work to your advantage?! For anything?!" Ron shouted, absolutely frustrated.

The twins were back in heavy business and didn't appear as much. When they did, it was usually only George, explaining with a grin that Fred was with Angelina. Harry's training sessions continued and he had to come up with believable fables to feed to his friends. Hermione could always be found wearing her gold necklace, and she put the pin in her hair once or twice for Ron's sake. (It wasn't that she disliked it—on the contrary; it was simply meant for more formal dress). As far as his romance with Hermione went, it was quite difficult achieving loneliness, especially with Ron and Ginny there. They had only snogged twice more since Christmas. The first time had been while Ginny washed her hair and while Charlie explained the finer points of a Quidditch move to Ron; it had been rather short. The second time had been at night. Hermione crept out of her room at midnight and went to Harry's. For some reason that time had been extremely thrilling. Maybe the darkness had played a role in it, or the knowledge that everyone else was asleep. Whatever the case, she left by means of the magic door and he went back to sleep very happy.

* * *

It was eleven o'clock at night. Harry sat on his bed, in his pajamas, with no light source. He had the Person Personifier in his hands and was revolving it slowly. (Earlier in the day he met with McGonagall for another rigid lesson). He had only used the gadget a few times since having it, mostly using it to confuse occupants at Grimmauld Place by pretending to be another wizard, or to mock Snape. Harry had, however, wanted to discover something since he had laid eyes upon it. It might very well bring him pain, but even so… he'd be able to experience it again. 

Harry took his wand that was on the pillow and tapped the Person Personifier.

"James Potter," he quietly stated. It took him a little while to finally bring it up to his mouth, and when he did, his hand was shaking.

"Prongs," came the voice of his father. The Personifier dropped quickly as Harry's eyes filled with water that he refused to let fall. So….

He tapped it again, vision still blurred.

"Sirius Black," he whispered. Harry hesitated once more before testing it.

"Sirius," said Sirius. Harry threw the Personifier over the side of his bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

* * *

Ron walked into the drawing room, having just come back from the kitchen to get a snack. 

"It's back to Hogwarts tomorrow," he blandly announced.

"Don't remind me," muttered Ginny. Harry actually didn't mind returning to the castle. There would be many more places he could sneak away to with Hermione, and it'd be much easier. Grimmauld Place was too small, in that sense anyway, and it was challenging escaping Ginny and Ron.

"Our last time." Harry mentioned thoughtfully.

"Bittersweet feeling." Ron said, sitting down.

"NEWTs are almost here, Harry and Ron. We _must _buckle down and start studying! I can't believe I waited so long! I'm working on schedules right now." Hermione told them, writing furiously. The boys groaned silently as Ginny smiled, petting Crookshanks.

Commotion then began. The front door could be heard opening and closing repetitively, and anxious voices followed it. Rapid footsteps were then heard through various parts of the house, accompanied by urgent voices. The four looked at each other.

"What's going on?" Ginny wondered, sitting up.

"Emergency meeting?" Ron put forth, sounding hopeful and worried.

"In the drawing room!," they heard Molly say, "Drawing room!"

"They're not looking for one of us?!" Harry said, surprised. Moments later Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the room.

"Oh! No," she remarked, seeing their bewildered faces, "Er, you four will have—" Albus Dumbledore then swooped into the room, followed by a few wizards.

"Albus, the children…" she began.

"Are fine, Molly. There are more pressing matters," he responded. She bit her lip as Ron looked excitedly at Harry. Hermione frowned and Ginny moved to join the others as more Order members entered the drawing room.

When it was full, and they sat huddled near the fireplace, eager, Dumbledore began to speak.

"There is a crisis at the Ministry," he started, "A short while ago, Cornelius Fudge claimed he had been put under the Imperius Curse by a Death Eater." Cries and talk immediately erupted. The Gryffindors' jaws dropped. Dumbledore held up his hand and silenced them all.

"Fudge is deducing that the Death Eater works for the Ministry since a hooded individual was not seen walking into the Ministry, and knows that that task is highly improbable. The Minister claims he was hit from behind and that it took a few minutes before he was able to regain control of himself. Apparently, when Cornelius had broken the spell, he saw the man running down the corridor. All exits and fireplaces were sealed, and an anti-Apparating charm was instantly cast by the Minister himself," the headmaster said.

"Was he, the Death Eater, caught?" asked Hestia Jones.

"Supposedly. They have a man detained, and he is refusing to speak."

"What was Fudge sent to do?" asked Charlie Weasley.

"Get into the Department of Coveted and Confidential Information. Apparently, he was ordered to obtain all of the information he could on the Order of the Phoenix." Dumbledore said. Murmurs started.

"Was the Death Eater successful?" pondered Remus.

"No. Cornelius came to his senses just as he approached the door. We need to go to the Ministry at once and investigate ourselves. I have been asked to be present at the interrogation myself. Kingsley, Arthur, Nymphadora, and Emmeline are already there since they were working, as are Sarai Higgins and Severus Snape."

"Meeting adjourned then?" growled Moody, ready to leave. Dumbledore nodded and everyone quickly departed.

"We're coming." Harry remarked, standing up. Dumbledore and the few who still remained turned to look at him.

"Yeah, we are!" Ron energetically added, also standing. Hermione appeared horrified.

"What?!" questioned Remus.

"We're coming to the Ministry as well," Harry said, "We have a right to. We're practically a part of the Order. We know just as much about Voldemort as any member, probably more. We want to come and can't be told not to."

"Yes! We're of age and you can't stop us! We're going!" Ron stated.

"You most certainly are not!," shrieked Molly, "I don't _care_ how old you are! You're still a teenager and in school ! It's too dangerous!"

"No it's not!"

"We just fought a hoard of dementors—that's not dangerous?" Hermione uncertainly commented, standing up at last.

"They are right Molly, Remus," Dumbledore acknowledged, "They _are _of age and they _have_ been through a great deal, have done more terrible things. You three may join us."

"What about me?!" cried Ginny.

"_You _are not going!," deemed Molly, near tears, "I will stay here with you!"

"So will I." Charlie volunteered.

"It's not fair! I've done just as much as they have!" shouted Ginny, running out of the room. Her brother went after her as Molly fell in a chair, blinking tears away.

"We must leave. Harry, Ronald, Hermione—you know to bring your wands." Dumbledore noted, nodding and walking out. Molly was eyeing them warily.

"Stay close to me," Remus instructed in a tense voice, "Do not stray."

When they were inside the Ministry of Magic, witches and wizards were seen bustling around hurriedly. McGonagall met Dumbledore, Remus, and the three teenagers, alerting them that Fudge was in the first conference room on their right with Amelia Bones and others. (She raised an eyebrow at the trio but said nothing). Indeed, inside the room were both Ministers, various Aurors, and various Order members.

"Ah, Albus!," greeted Fudge, agitatedly, "Wait—what's this?"

"Children?" asked a Ministry employee, outraged.

"Unacceptable!" added a Wizengamot official.

"We're _not _children!" Ron indignantly said.

"Leave them," ordered Amelia Bones, "They are fine. Harry, how are you?" He merely looked at her and gave a short nod, as everyone else began to notice that it was Harry Potter and not just _any _child. Fudge gave an odd smile and Snape cut his eyes. Typical that Potter would be allowed to tag along.

"Harry, dear boy," he hailed. Harry glared at him. Fudge, along with Snape, was on his list of unforgivables.

"Cornelius, your story please." Dumbledore commented. The Minister of Magic launched into his tale for the fifth time since it happened. Harry listened to detect any hint of lying, but didn't note one.

"We are about to go incriminate the man right now." Bones reported when Fudge had finished.

"The people with whom he worked are being questioned as well," announced Kingsley, arms folded.

"His wand was proven to have performed the Imperius Curse," divulged Midge Thornton, a Wizengamot witch, "It was Samuel Micheals." Dumbledore nodded.

"Let us proceed then," he remarked.

"It was decided that _Cornelius_ hereshould have some time off Albus." Moody revealed, sounding repulsed.

"Yes. Still shaken by… the thing. Think a month… be enough." Fudge rambled.

"I see," the headmaster said.

"I will, naturally, take his place until he is able to return." Bones remarked.

"Are you sure you don't need to go into hiding Minister?" Snape pondered, only a few catching the sarcasm he laced with it.

"To Micheals, to… interrogate, the man." Fudge declared, puffing up somewhat proudly. He left with Bones, Shacklebolt, and two of the Wizengamot. (All the others would not be attending the questioning).

"Uh, Professor?" started Harry, speaking to Dumbledore, "Are we allowed to go, or is it too—"

"You may hear what this man has to say, Harry, though I ask you not repeat it to anyone," he replied. Harry nodded and Hermione testified:

"Of course we won't."

"Remus, you may join us as well."

"Yes." Lupin said, not really wanting to leave Harry's side.

Samuel Micheals was being held on the second level, in a room that belonged to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Tonks, a Tonks with flowing yellow hair and violet eyes, was guarding the door and grinned when she saw whom the last people in were.

"Get a confession out of 'im," she whispered to the three. Inside was solely a single chair in the center of the room, with a man perched on it. Micheals was drained of color but had a razor thin set mouth. His arms hung at his sides and he had bags under his eyes, despite being rather young. He didn't have the courtesy to even look at them when they came in, but upon spotting a lightning bolt scar, he glanced intently.

"Samuel K. Micheals—you are accused of being a Death Eater of Voldemort. Do you deny it?" boomed Bones. He didn't move or speak.

"You allegedly performed the Imperius Curse on Cornelius Fudge. Do you deny it?" Nothing.

"Your wand was examined and it was uncovered that you recently carried out an Unforgivable Curse. Can you explain?" Stillness.

"Are you in league with You-Know-Who?!" the (first) Minister shouted, suddenly angry. Ron glanced at Harry. Micheals shot Fudge a contemptuous look and laughed a little, though it was full of fear.

"Get the Veritaserum; he's not cooperating." Fudge curtly told Kingsley. As he made to move, so did Samuel Micheals.

"You can't stop the Dark Lord!" he hollered. Without warning, he grabbed Fudge's wand, who was closest to him, and pointed it at his chest. Almost everyone cried out, and Dumbledore & Kingsley moved to stop him. Micheals yelled out the incantation, a red light coming forth, and he slumped over in the chair. Amelia Bones looked horrified and Remus' hand had instinctively gone to Harry's shoulder.

"He just…," Hermione whispered, hand covering her mouth, "He just… _killed _himself!"

* * *

A/N: Ha ha, did you like how I just made up that Department? Nice. Erm… there was something I needed to say. Crap. Don't remember. Probably wasn't important anyway. Next chapter on Friday and it's when they go back to Hogwarts. Blergh!! WAIT! COME BACK! I just remembered what I had to say! I put that little excerpt in there showing Harry and the Personifier 'cause I wanted to show that Sirius' death _still _affects him. Kay, s'all.  



	21. Detention With Snape

A/N: So, I didn't post yesterday. Well, I _did _but it was another thing entirely—Potter Boy. (Check it out)! I'm posting today so get over it. Lol—j/k.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 21

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were forbidden to tell anyone what they had seen and they obliged, once more. (They, of course, were still stunned). Back at Grimmauld Place, they heard Snape telling Dumbledore Micheals had been a new Death Eater. His test had been to successfully carry out manipulating the Minister in order to benefit Voldemort; he had undeniably failed. Another meeting was held, but the trio stayed in Ron's room and discussed the events for themselves.

"What was Fudge thinking, having his wand out?" Hermione asked in a sad tone.

"The idiot doesn't think." Harry bluntly answered.

"Well, this'll be in the _Prophet _in no time," observed Ron, "Fudge will be made out as the hero, despite the fact that he gave Micheals his murder weapon."

Ginny ignored them all for the remainder of the night, isolating herself in her room. She spoke to them the next morning as they prepared to catch the train back to Hogwarts, but if the conversation even alluded to the previous day, she'd shut up. Fred and George came to see them off and be a part of the guard, which included Molly, Arthur, Remus, Elphias Doge, and Moody. It was hard saying farewell to them all, and it was poignant knowing they had just finished their last Hogwarts' winter holiday.

Hermione pushed her trunk into the luggage rack, huffing. Crookshanks brushed against her leg, purring.

"Your dumb animal wants something," Ron noted, easily putting his own trunk away.

"Don't call him that!"

"Ron's only mad that your pet is useful and his isn't," remarked Ginny, gathering the "cat" in her arms.

"Useful?! _That_? Yeah right! I don't see _Crookshanks _flying around, delivering post!" he protested.

"To the wrong person?" Hermione smiled.

"Pig does it a few times and he's branded for life!" Ron then let his owl out and watched it ram jauntily into the Head Girl's head.

"Ouch! Ron!" she yelled, trying to shoo Pig away.

"Hello all." Neville greeted, coming in with Luna Lovegood behind him.

"Hi Neville."

"Hey Longbottom." Luna and Neville put their things away overhead.

"Salutations Ginny, Ronald." Luna said dreamily. She took his hand in hers and gazed at it before letting it fall.

"Er… hi Luna," he replied, ears going red. Hermione and Ginny grinned at each other.

"I've observed your necklace Hermione. It's marvelous. Those are scare you know. But I suppose they would be—they came from a small meteor that lost its way to Saturn and ended up here, on Earth," she explained.

"Um, thanks, Luna." Hermione said, biting her tongue.

"Harry's out there." Neville reported, sitting down.

"Still?" She stepped outside the compartment, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

"Har—" Hermione let the rest fall. He was with Parvati, and she was talking animatedly, a smile radiating her face. His trunk and Hedwig's cage were still at his feet. (The bird seemed perturbed with her master's behavior). She went back inside.

"He's talking to Parvati." Hermione said, surprised she was taking it rather well. Harry came in not too long afterwards, but as his two best friends were leaving.

"Prefect meeting. Trains rounds and such." Ginny explained to him.

Draco Malfoy appeared to be back to normal. He was smirking and leering comfortably during the meeting, so that meant he was himself again.

"What'd he get for Christmas?," Ron bitterly asked, "His father?"

When they returned, Hermione didn't say much and took to staring out of the window. Something had been pestering her since her talk with Ginny about her feelings for Harry. They had never truly discussed it, or said that it was definite. She wanted to bring it up, but didn't know if Harry would think of her as being… clingy.

"You know, it's my second to last ride on the Express," Ron announced after 20 minutes, "I think I'll go… take it all in."

"Be careful." Luna airily warned.

"Oh, that I _will _be," he darkly assured, strolling out. Ginny frowned. She had a sudden urge to follow him and Colin flashed in her mind. Hermione watched him depart and then glanced quickly at Harry: he was staring at her. She gazed down at her robes. All right, so he knew she was being disturbed by something. After a few minutes she announced:

"I'm going to see if the trolley is moving anywhere, um, in the front of the train."

"Oh, d'you think you could get me some Pumpkin Pastries?" inquired Neville.

"I'd enjoy a few Licorice Wands." Luna added.

"Sure." Hermione replied awkwardly, going out. She hoped Harry caught on to what she was doing. She moved further down the corridor, away from their compartment, and then waited. Harry walked out a couple of minutes later.

"Where are wegoing to go?" he near hissed.

"Prefect carriage—it's empty." Hermione whispered. They hurried to it when no one was around, and lounged casually when students were in the hallways.

"I told them I had to go see Seamus and Dean," Harry relayed, once inside, "So… what's wrong?"

"How'd you know—" she began.

"You were dead silent!"

"Yes, well, there is _that _little fact…"

"What is it Hermione?"

"Erm… well… so, what'd you say to Parvati?" She didn't really care to know what their conversation had been about, and knew she probably sounded jealous, but it was the first thing that popped into her head that wasn't the real issue!

"I-I just thanked her for the watch. A-And she told me she's going out with Marx, the Slytherin," Harry explained. He looked forlorn, "Hermione, you're not… not starting this Parvati thing again, are you?"

"God, Harry, no!," Hermione insisted sincerely, "I'm moving past it, I really am! I just… don't, _can't_, seem to get this… _thing_, out of my mouth."

"Hermione," he started, glad to hear she wasn't jealous of Parvati, "You can tell me! I won't wig out."

"You might," she mumbled. He raised his eyebrows, "All right! I just… I was wondering how you see us."

"See us?"

"Yes. If you, er… consider me—you may not be into labels—but, think of me as… your g-girlfriend." Harry looked at her.

"Why would you worry about that?" he questioned.

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't like titles! I thought it'd frighten you off or something," Hermione admitted, playing ashamedly with her fingers, "It does a lot of males."

"How long have we been together?"

"A month." Had it been that long already?!

"Do you consider me as your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yes. Happily," she responded, feeling butterflies. Harry was her boyfriend….

"Then you're my girlfriend, end of story." Harry resolved. Hermione grinned. She never thought she'd see the day when she could say _she _was Harry's girlfriend. Another milestone….

"You worry too much, Mione," he smiled seductively, moving closer to her.

"Don't call me that." Hermione warned him, smiling herself and moving back shyly. The doorknob rattled just as Harry had her around the waist.

"It'll have to wait," she quietly told him, put out and referring to the inevitable heavy snog that was about to happen, "It's not safe here."

"Fine. First chance we get at Hogwarts, Room of Requirement." Harry said.

* * *

"All right, so Thomas is _finally _going out with Bethany!" Seamus pointed out the next day at breakfast.

"It's about bloody time." Ron commented, shoveling eggs into his mouth. His search for Colin on the Hogwarts Express had proven futile.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean said, half smiling.

"Two down, three to go. Ron's working on Loony and Harry, your chance with Patil is over," remarked Seamus.

"She's going out with Daniel Marx. She made sure the entire student population knew on the train yesterday." Neville noted. They had spent the previous night talking about their vacations and Christmas presents.

"What do you mean, I'm 'working on her'? And don't call her that!" Ron said, in an irritated manner. Harry smirked, not saying anything. He mentally corrected Seamus: _three _down, two to go. He _had _a significant other. They hadn't gotten the chance to snog at all the previous day—they had been too busy.

"Hey Harry, when's our first DA meeting?" Dean wondered.

"Oh, and our first Quidditch practice." Ron put forth.

"When's the first game? For Gryffindor, that is," mentioned Neville.

"Who do we play again?" pondered Seamus.

"Oh, uh…," Harry started, dazed by the onslaught of questions fired at him, "Er, we play Slytherin next Friday, and our first practice is Thursday. The DA will meet this Saturday."

"Saturday?" Ron asked, unsure.

"Like you've really got anything better to do." Harry insipidly observed.

"Obviously not, but holding a meeting on the weekend seems completely sacrilegious! Harry, have you no morals?" Harry merely leaned back in his seat and stared at Ron, arms crossed. An owl suddenly dropped a parcel in front of Neville, while another had the newspaper for Seamus.

"From Gran." Neville muttered. (The post had arrived).

"Holy shite!" exclaimed Seamus, eyes wide.

"What?" Dean and Harry wondered.

"A _Death Eater_?!" said Seamus. On the front page was a picture of a weary Cornelius Fudge over a lengthy article titled **Fudge Fuddled: **_Minister Has Imperius Curse Performed on Him By a Death Eater. _Harry looked at Ron.

"Hurry and read it so we can!" Dean instructed. After a quarter of an hour, the Great Hall was positively buzzing. No one could believe it. The story hadn't mentioned _all _of the people whom had seen Micheals kill himself, nor had it said whose wand Micheals used. Ginny soaked all of it up like a sponge. She wanted to ask her brother and his friends for the details of the event now that it was out.

"It's crazy now, isn't it?," Neville asked, as a group of Hufflepuffs ran to the Ravenclaw table, _Prophet _in hand, "I mean, things are really starting to hit the fan."

"Makes you not want to leave Hogwarts again." Dean quietly observed.

"Yeah, but all of You-Know-Who's attempts are failing." Seamus noted.

"Not all. When something doesn't work out, he goes out and kills innocent people!" Ron remarked, gesturing to the periodical. He was referring to another article in which it stated that a small village of Muggles had been killed, along with a small community of wizards the night of the Death Eater mishap. Harry looked dully at the paper, then straight ahead. What was Voldemort's next move? He did seem to become brasher with each day. Much of the Slytherins were all huddled together, discreetly discussing the story. Harry could make out Malfoy's gleaming hair somewhere in the middle.

"Class then, yeah?" Ron prompted, sighing heavily.

Ginny cornered the trio that evening in the common room. They spoke to her in a secluded corner, seeing no harm in filling in the gaps since she knew most of it. As expected, she was shocked to learn that it had been Fudge's wand. It was near impossible for Harry and Hermione to leave for personal solitude what with everyone and all of the Fudge talk, and what with it looking bizarre for them to leave the room at the same time. They simply stayed put and reasoned they could be alone the following day. Consequently, that did not pan out; Harry and Hermione did not get to snog on Wednesday either. Harry had to tackle his ridiculous amount of homework and Hermione asserted she had to begin studying for NEWTs. (She tried to recruit Ron to study with her but he quickly disappeared). On top of that, Lavender was sick so Hermione had to substitute for her that night during rounds while she was in the hospital wing.

By Thursday Harry was going through withdrawals. He hadn't the pleasure of kissing Hermione since Saturday and felt he was starting to lose it. Hermione appeared to be affected by it as well—she was much more snappish than usual. Their first week at Hogwarts was not a good omen for how their snogging opportunities would be.

"Milk please, Harry." Ron requested as he pulled his plate in front of him. (It was breakfast, of course).

"Catch up to Colin yet?" Harry pondered, giving the pitcher over.

"No," he darkly replied, eyes narrowing in the boy's direction, "the twit's well guarded."

"Honestly Ron, you should leave him alone. Ginny likes him and that should be enough." Hermione advised.

"All right Hermione, I'll do that. Right after I claim I love Draco Malfoy for all to know!"

"I would _kill _to see you do that!" she told him through gritted teeth. Did he have to be so close minded?! And did Harry have to be sitting right there, utterly out of her grasp at the momenet?! Suddenly the owls flooded the Great Hall. A dark, majestic one swooped in front of Ron.

"It's Bird!" he exclaimed.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Bill's owl!" Ron took the letter and gave Bird some toast.

"Everyone in your family's got an owl." Hermione mentioned.

"All except Ginny. Charlie has Celeste and Percy's got that uppity one," he elaborated, commencing in reading the letter.

"So, Harry… what's, er, happening with you tonight?" Hermione questioned, striving to sound indifferent.

"Quidditch practice," he guiltily answered.

"Right," she briskly stated, angrily tearing into a croissant. Ah, yet another inconvenience.

"Bill's back!" Ron suddenly shouted.

"What?" Harry said.

"Bill! He's finally back from his mission! He got home two days ago!"

"Ron! That's wonderful!" smiled Hermione. Harry couldn't do anything but nod enthusiastically and grin.

"I know! I have to finish reading it, a-and go find Ginny! He wants to know about Christmas and how things have been. I have to reply. He wrote something about Fleur in here," Ron elatedly spilled, speaking to himself more than them, "I-I've got to go! I'll see you later, or in class!" He then stood up and hurriedly exited the Great Hall, smiling.

"That's great news," said Harry.

"Yes. It's good knowing Bill made it back safely," she replied.

"Listen… so I know we haven't really been…," He checked to assure no one was listening to them, "_Alone _so far, but—"

"Oh no Harry, it's understandable—we've both been occupied. So busy, in fact, that we can't even seem to get ten pathetic minutes to ourselves! But you know, it's all right. Maybe we'll find some time two weeks from now!," Hermione raved. Harry looked at her with a despondent expression, "I'm just going to go to class. I'll… study until it begins." She grabbed her bag and left the dining room. As she headed to Muggle Studies, she put a hand over her face. It had been immature and unfair of her for blowing up at Harry like that; she certainly hadn't meant to. Hermione was simply frustrated! It was unjust that others could go around, openly, and show affection for their companions, while she was practically forbidden. She and Harry were people too and deserved to be together, along with everyone else. _It's because he _is _Harry_, she bitterly thought.

Hermione neared the entrance hall, preparing to enter the Great Hall. It was lunchtime and she wanted to grab a little something to eat before going to NEWT study in the library. She looked up when she sensed someone fall in step with her. It was Harry, and he smelled terrifically, as usual. Skillfully and without bringing attention to himself, he slipped his hand in hers and removed it. He smiled at her and then moved ahead. Hermione watched his back while rolling the scrap of parchment around in her palm.

"Hermione!" a recognizable voice called behind her. She turned around to see David Rice.

"Hi David," she greeted, stopping to let him catch up.

"How are you doing?" he inquired.

"I'm pretty well. Yourself?"

"Same here! How were your holidays?"

"Brilliant! How were yours?"

"I enjoyed myself as well. I'm glad to know you had a smashing time." David commented.

"Thank you."

"Oh, your necklace…" he began.

"Oh, yes!" She opened it for him.

"Wow! That's… amazing," he said.

"Harry gave it to me," she murmured. David nodded, closing it and looking at her.

"So, I'm going out with Rebecca!" he reported, smiling.

"Are you really?!"

"Yes. She asked me when we got back, though I was planning to do the same thing!"

"David, that's fantastic."

"Yeah," He checked his watch, "I've got to meet Professor McGonagall right now, but why don't we continue this tomorrow at lunch?"

"All right." Hermione agreed.

"I'll see you later then Hermione. Bye!"

"Bye." David walked off in another direction. So now both of Harry and Hermione's old flames had mates. It seemed as if everyone was coupling up all of a sudden. She then recalled Harry's noted and unfurled it.

_Meet me in the Room of Requirement at 8:40, no exceptions._

Hermione gripped her necklace and grinned a bit.

* * *

Harry made sure to end practice at precisely 8:30. It took about ten minutes for him to put away his broom, switch robes, and hurry to the Room of Requirement, and this was with him _rushing_. He prayed no one was occupying the room and was relieved to know it was empty. When he arrived, a small table stood near the door with lip balm and breath mints on it. And was he crazy, but were there flower petals on the floor? Shrugging, he popped a mint in his mouth and went to turn off the romantic music coming from a recorder.

Harry sat lazily on the red sofa when Hermione came dashing in six minutes later. Her hair was tousled but it only made her prettier, and she looked about the room in comical understanding. However, it melted away when she saw Harry.

"Sorry about being late, but—" she started.

"Doesn't matter—you're here now," he assured, suddenly next to her. If they intended to kiss gently, it never happened. It was hurried, frantic, and fast paced, hands not in a spot for more than four seconds before jumping elsewhere. It was rather a needy snog, and it was wonderful.

"Hermy." Harry tried to say, at around nine o'clock. His arms were tangled up somewhere inside her robes.

"What?" she breathed, fingers all but attached to his back. She kissed him roughly again.

"I haf… go," he exhaled.

"What?" Hermione repeated, not wholly listening to his words. One hand weaved into his hair while the other snaked around his neck. She began kissing him behind his ear. Harry shut his eyes and had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. _Focus Potter!_, he told himself, _you've got snogging—no, no, a _session _to go to, with Flitwick! Now!_

"I h-have… detention, with Snape." Harry said. Hermione pulled away, eyes locked on his.

"Are you serious?" she wondered.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Her shoulders fell.

"Harry! Again? So soon? _Another _one?!" Hermione scolded.

"I know, it's—" he started.

"What are you _doing _to make him so mad?!" Harry opened his mouth helplessly but she crossed her arms, scoffing.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I swear." Harry said.

"You _could _actually start having sense when you're in his presence!," Hermione lectured, looking angrily at him, "We finally get _13 _minutes together after days, and it's ruined!"

"I know, I know. I messed up; I'm sorry," he apologized, taking her face in his hands, "You—have—no—idea—how—sorry—I—am." He had kissed her for every word.

"Fine Harry, just go, before you get in even _more _trouble," she told him. Of course he didn't want to leave, but he had no choice.

"Things'll get better." Harry guaranteed, smiling sadly. He kissed her lightly and then left the room. Hermione went and slumped down on the couch, pouting. She had not had enough time with him, and what was more, she felt as if he was lying about Snape's detention.

* * *

A/N: I'm predicting… about 14 more chapters for the story. I'll also explain the meaning of the title of the fic in the second to last chapter of the story. Chapter 22 on Tuesday. 


	22. Complimentary Lemon Drops

A/N: Right, so, another semester of college has started and I am miserable again. God school sucks. Sorry I haven't written in awhile; writer's block and being abducted from my dorm room kept me from doing so. Anyway, here is another chapter of the story, finally.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 22

Parvati brought her boyfriend to the DA meeting on Saturday. It marked history, seeing as how he was the first Slytherin to ever attend a DA gathering. Sadly, most of the people there did not trust him far enough to throw him and watched him with regarding eyes. Ron wanted to throw him out but Hermione quickly came to his defense, saying it would be completely wrong of them to discriminate against someone just because of a House name. She thought it was wonderful that Daniel was there; it 'strengthens House bonds', she said. She also pointed out Daniel did not run in the same crowd as Malfoy. This, however, did not matter. The snakes were furious and disgusted that one of their own was dating a lion, above all others. Harry was weary of the boy himself but said nothing.

Ron begged Harry to assign partners when needed and put him with Colin Creevey, and Harry honestly considered granting his friend's wish, but when he saw Ginny, he couldn't go through with it. Ron also found out about David and Rebecca during the meeting and took that news strangely. He wasn't jumping for joy over it, as having once liked Rebecca, but he wasn't very upset either. He watched them together a few times and would throw a glance in Hermione's direction, all the while calculating.

The night before Gryffindor's first game of the year against Slytherin, Harry and Ron sat near the common room's hearth, dealing with their homework. Practice had been held at five o'clock earlier that evening; Harry was confident they would win.

"So I checked this morning," Ron energetically started, "And I've grown another inch!" Harry looked at him wryly but was smiling.

"Congratulations! You are now as tall as Hagrid!" he joked.

"Oh, I see, you're envious. Well, I would be too if I were five feet!"

"Hey, I am _well _over 60 inches!" There was silence while they let their humor and smiles settle in.

"So, this whole Rice, Rebecca thing is good." Ron remarked, making up an answer for a Divination question.

"Good," smirked Harry, "Despite the fact that you fancy her?"

"Whoa, it's fan_cied_—fan_cied_! It… wouldn't have worked out, anyway."

"Yeah, because Rice got to her first!"

"As I was saying," the redhead continued, pretending to ignore his best friend, "It's good in the… Hermione sense." Harry looked at him.

"With Mr. Yawn occupied by Rebecca, he can't or won't go after Hermione." Harry remained silent but gazed at Ron purposefully.

"It's like he's thrown in the towel, realized he can't win," said Ron.

"Why?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Why what?" smiled the Weasley boy.

"Why do you care about David and Hermione so much? Why do you want him to stay away from her? Why are you so concerned about that?" he pushed, his voice rising with each question. Ron was always making suggestive or ambiguous comments about Hermione, about her love life, about his feelings concerning her. He tiptoed around the blatant truth and Harry, was suddenly, tired of it. He needed to hear it; he needed to hear Ron admit that he had feelings for Hermione. It had been too long since Ron had last done it.

"Oh, I… uh—" Ron sputtered, utterly thrown off track. What was with Harry? They stared at each other for a few seconds, Harry's gaze deep, and Ron's, abashed. They broke the connection when someone was heard entering the common room. It was Hermione, back from her meeting with Dumbledore.

"Hello," she greeted. Harry glanced at her before bending over to write. Ron looked uncertainly at Harry's head, recognizing a very strange moment had just occurred.

Hermione and Draco Malfoy sat in front of the headmaster's desk, listening attentively to his words, or, in the Head Boy's case, somewhat disinterestedly.

"Due to Hogwarts' last visit to Hogsmeade, major changes have been made." Dumbledore said.

"Are we… still allowed to go to the village, Professor?" she inquired.

"Yes Ms. Granger, but under new circumstances." Malfoy arched an eyebrow, conveying possible curiosity.

"It has been decided that the students shall not be allowed to return until March. When that day comes, only fifth years and up will be permitted. There will also be many more professors present for supervision." Dumbledore explained. Hermione nodded and Malfoy smiled darkly.

"Sir," he started to drawl, "Do you really think these new… _precautions _will the stop the Dark Lord if he wishes to attack Hogsmeade again?" Hermione scowled whereas Dumbledore smiled benignly.

"And do you, Mr. Malfoy, truly believe Voldemort will be foolish enough to strike the village once more, or attempt to?" the old wizard inquired. The blonde boy leered at him for a moment before looking at the floor, confused and angry.

"I will leave it up to you to repeat this message to your Houses, and to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff prefects as well."

"Yes Professor," she promised.

"You may return to your affairs, but please—take a lemon drop before you go." Dumbledore said.

"A _what_?" Malfoy pondered.

Hermione wanted to desert the Slytherin the moment they left the headmaster's office, and tried to, but it appeared he was being "friendly" tonight.

"Shouldn't you get back to your common room Malfoy," she snapped, "Your admirers must be lonely."

"No," he grinned viciously, "I'd much rather torment you." She scoffed and hurried her pace; he kept up easily.

"So I noticed that ridiculous ornaments around your neck. Who gave it to you? I know a wizard did—the Muggles aren't smart enough to think up something like that. Rare, those are. What disgustingly, love struck moron decided _you _deserved it?" Malfoy probed. Hermione glared at him, hand tightening on her wand. He laughed.

"Interesting what happened to the Minister, isn't it," he tried, switching subjects, "Imperius Curse by a Death Eater. It's as though _nothing _is safe anymore. Real pity."

"You know Malfoy," Hermione said, whirling around to face him, "You sure do sound cool and collected for someone who _cowered _and ran into a building the instance you saw a dementor." He stared at her, his handsome face showing too many emotions at once to count.

"All you do is talk," she informed before resuming her path to Gryffindor Tower. She didn't trouble herself with glancing back.

When Hermione entered the common room she saw her two best friends sitting near the fireplace.

"Hello," she greeted, going to join them.

"Hi Hermione." Harry replied, writing something down. Ron pulled his gaze away from Harry.

"H-Hey Hermione," he said.

"What'd Dumbledore want?" asked Harry.

"To talk about Hogsmeade." Hermione responded.

"What'd he say?" pondered Ron. She told them what he had said, and then described her conversation with Malfoy.

"Fifth year and up?"

"You really _said _that to Malfoy?"

"March?"

"Did he try to hex you?" came their comments. The boys quickly looked at one another before switching issues.

"Oh, yeah, but what you told Malfoy—that was brilliant."

"So we really can't go to Hogsmeade until March?" Hermione smiled.

"We'll have to have a prefect meeting to tell everyone Ron, so they can get the word out," she noted.

"Yeah," he acknowledged, squinting at the picture of Jupiter he had drawn, "That can't be right…"

"Well since everyone's working, I'll just dash upstairs and fetch my things!"

"You've got homework as well?"

"Of course not—I've already finished it all. I'm going to get my NEWT work!"

Two hours later Harry and Ron lumbered back to their dorm room, all "worked" out. They were the only ones there, seeing as how Neville was in the shower and Seamus Dean were with their girlfriends.

"Listen, Ron, mate," Harry started, uneasily raking his hands through his hair, "About earlier, with the Hermione thing… I didn't mean to, er, lose my head. I just… I don't know."

"It's all right Harry," Ron insisted, pulling his robes off, "Don't apologize. I know I talk, or complain, about Rice a lot. It must get on your nerves. I guess I'm just protective of Hermione because, well… I…" He trailed off, staring at his bed. Harry looked at him, expecting more.

"Bah," Ron exclaimed, coming to life. He kicked his shoes off, "So, about that game tomorrow!"

* * *

Hermione smiled, holding Harry's face in her hands, before he moved in for another heated kiss. It was ten minutes before the start of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match, and Harry was in the middle of a pre-game snog. He had told Hermione at breakfast, and for no one else to hear, to meet him in the locker room 20 minutes beforehand. (She had an inkling of what he wanted). He then told his teammates he was going to the locker room early to go over some last minute plays and didn't want to be disturbed, but also commanded them to come when it was time. Hermione left a few minutes after he did, claiming that she wanted to get some studying time in before the match began. (Ron rolled his eyes disbelievingly). As it was now, they were blissfully snogging like there was no tomorrow. 

"Should've come 30 minutes earlier," he grinned, rubbing her back. He kissed the corners of her mouth and then went to her neck, her sensitive spot. Harry left two kisses before his tongue lashed out. Hermione bit down on her lip, hard, as she grasped fistfuls of black hair. It would not be wise to let out noise of any kind, though she was dying to. He gripped her hips and maneuvered them closer to him as he started sucking her throat.

"Okay, Harry—as much as I want to continue this," Hermione gasped, "It's _my _turn to go."

"Go? No, don't go. To hell with the game; we can just stay here," he remarked.

"But everyone else—the team is coming!"

"Bullocks, you're right." Harry sighed and reluctantly let go of her.

"I'm just as disappointed as you," she pointed out, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek. She affectionately nipped his ear before pulling away. He grinned both mischievously and suggestively at her.

"Okay, I obviously shouldn't have done that." Hermione noted, stepping back as he stepped forward. Footsteps and voices were then heard coming closer and closer, and they weren't that of the students watching the game.

"Damn it! My teammates!" Harry hissed, rushing over to his locker. He threw it open, grabbed his Invisibility Cloak, and hurled it at her. She caught it and twirled it around her body, vanishing.

"Leave when the last person walks in," he instructed.

"I know," came her voice. He then felt the sensation of lips pressing against his as the Gryffindor Quidditch team entered.

"Finish those plays yet Harry?" Matthew Burnstone asked cheerily.

"Er, yeah," he responded, vainly trying to see any sign of Hermione leave the locker room.

"Were you out flying?" pondered Sarah Clayborn.

"What?" the captain wanted to know, looking at her.

"It looks as if you've been flying. You're all flustered," she smiled.

"Yeah, your hair's all over the place." Ron noted.

"You mean _more _than usual?" Lauren asked. His team laughed while he grinned, blushing.

"Yeah, I took a… a short ride." Harry lied. They began putting on their Quidditch gear. Harry noticed Colin was slightly pale and looked a little shaken as he slipped a glove on.

"Hey, Ron—what's up with Colin?" he questioned quietly. They redhead smiled triumphantly, but it held more menace than happiness.

"Finally had a talk with the little bugger," he said, "Told him exactly what I'd do if he does _anything _to Ginny."

"Great. One of our Beaters is afraid of the Keeper. This won't be odd!" Harry remarked sarcastically, however grinning. Ginny then walked over to her boyfriend and began talking to him worriedly. Ron moved to intervene but Harry put a hand on his shoulder.

"I think you've done enough damage for one day, Ron," he mentioned, "Save that determination for the Slytherins!"

Gryffindor won and the customary party was held. The score turned out to be 200 to 80, and Harry had caught the Snitch before an irate Malfoy. Lavender Brown joked over how Malfoy must feel about having never captured the Snitch against Harry. Hermione wanted to celebrate his victory the succeeding evening but Harry was forced to decline, claiming he had to go over an assignment with Professor Higgins (which meant another training lesson). And so the next two weeks of January passed, marking its end, with Harry frequently disappearing many nights for an hour, always declaring it had to do with school work, or detention. Sometimes he wouldn't even give a real excuse, and just passed it off by saying it was, "Stupid stuff, really".

Ron didn't pay much attention to Harry's absences, and basically believed his stories, but Hermione was a different case. When she had first started dating Harry, she had noticed them, yes, but they did not raise an alarm in her. Now, on the other hand, she couldn't move past his goings. Hermione did not believe Harry needed _that _much help with his work; he wasn't stupid! If he had been, he wouldn't have gotten into his NEWT classes. The one matter that truly bothered her was that of Snape. Slytherin's Head of House was not a patient man, and he did not tolerate anything, especially not Harry. Hermione was willing to bet Crookshanks that after Harry's fourth or fifth mishap in NEWT Potions, Snape would have kicked him out of the class. He had said himself several times that he would harbor no foolishness in any form in his upper division course, and Harry seemed to have _a lot _of detentions despite this. What was more, Harry appeared to return tired after many of these intervals, wincing or rubbing a body part.

So, as far as Hermione was concerned, Harry was lying straight to their faces, and she wanted to know why. The chance came after a DA meeting on a Thursday night, another of which Daniel Marx had attended. (He seemed pretty sincere about being there so many students dropped their hostility, Ron not being one of them. Hermione was annoyed by this and called him an absolute bigot).

"Bye Harry!" Parvati said as she and Daniel walked out with Padma. He waved, and then to the group of Hufflepuffs with Neville, who was talking to Hannah. Ginny and Colin left next, hand in hand, with the Weasley girl glaring back at Ron, daring him to follow them. He seemed up for the challenge.

"Ronald, would you mind escorting me back to the Ravenclaw common room?" Luna asked, offhandedly drifting over to him and virtually saving Ginny.

"You—what? Y-You want me to walk you back?" he inquired.

"Yes. I want to discuss mehorgans with someone." Harry had no clue what mehorgans were, and neither did Ron, but guessing by the look on Hermione's face, there were another one of Luna's creatures.

"Sure, Luna." Ron agreed. He looked at Harry before he walked out with the blonde Ravenclaw; Harry laughed to himself. Pretty soon he and Hermione were the only ones left.

"So… you don't have detention or anything later tonight, do you? No appointments with professors?" she wondered, righting a squashed beanbag.

"No," he chuckled, "Thankfully. Why? Do you have something in mind?" Hermione stood up and looked at him. She hated to break his good mood, but she just had to know. She didn't want a relationship with secrets, or lies.

"It's just… you always seem to have something along those lines." Hermione remarked.

"Not tonight… and not always." Harry said.

"Well, a lot Harry, you can't deny that." His happiness was rapidly falling away.

"All right, maybe a lot. What does that have to do with anything?" he commented.

"They're just… unnatural," she replied.

"Unnatural? You mean," Harry gazed at her intensely, "You think I'm lying, don't you? About where I go?" His happiness was completely gone.

"Well, to be honest… y-yes, I do." He sat down on an orange beanbag and stared ahead, thoughts beginning to consume him. Well, he couldn't be angry with her because he _was_ lying about it all. _I should have known she would have caught on, _he grimly thought, _this is Hermione._

"Harry," Hermione tentatively began, "I just want to know the truth. I want to know what's happening to you… I'm w-worried." So this was it? He had to tell her about his sessions, about learning how to fight for his life. _Why don't you go the entire way and tell her that these sessions aren't precautions, that you _know _you have to fight Voldemort—tell her about the prophecy_. Harry clenched his fists. No! Not now.

"Harry," she pleaded, sitting on the floor next to him and grabbing his hand. He looked at her.

"They're sessions," he quietly stated.

"What?"

"I meet with Aurors, Order members, and professors. They teach me how to duel."

"But… you already know how to duel."

"They teach me with advanced magic… legal dark magic," continued Harry, in the same dull tone, "They teach me what I need to know to… protect myself against Voldemort." He had been careful not to say the word 'fight' or 'defeat'. Hermione put a hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

"I have to learn sometime. He seems to like me, doesn't he?" Harry quipped, smiling sadly. She threw herself onto him, distraughtly clinging to anything and everything. A sob escaped her as tears fell. There it was again, that monstrous and petrifying thought of life without him. Harry sank to the floor and gathered her closer, kissing the side of her face before finding comfort in her plentiful hair. How would she react when she found out about his real fate? The thought was unthinkable.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, apologizing for more things than she could imagine.

* * *

A/N: Neh. I'll post on Friday. Next chapter deals with Valentine's Day. 


	23. Bursting Hearts

A/N: Thanks be to **Falron** for the review! This chapter will be rather long, as will the next one—I got carried away. Ha ha! Take that you bastards:Blank stare: I dunno. Just thought I'd put in my weirdness for the day.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 24

Roughly two more weeks went by, coming to the middle of February. Harry and Hermione found that it was becoming easier to find time to themselves, and in more places. (Harry was relieved he had told Hermione about his lessons; it made their situation much easier with him not having to lie). They were getting the feel of Hogwarts' life and their friends habits schedules, and were able to plan their meetings around it all. Harry had yet to tell Ron about his training sessions and didn't exactly know why. He knew Ron had a right to that particular knowledge, seeing as how they were best friends, and he knew that the Weasley boy would be offended to learn Hermione had known about it, but Harry had merely not stumbled across the opportune moment.

As far as Hogsmeade went, numerous students were outraged upon hearing the news of no visits until March. Others did not care if they never saw the village again—good riddance to bad memories. The only fact everyone agreed upon was that Valentine's Day would prove to be a bit lifeless without the possibility of going into Hogsmeade.

"Since there's no Hogsmeade, what are we going to do? Stay in the ruddy castle," demanded Seamus during dinner on February 12th, "_Some _of us have girlfriends. They _won't _find it romantic."

"The Astronomy Tower will be full that night," smiled Dean.

"Maybe Professor Dumbledore has something planned," Neville thoughtfully noted, "Like a ball or something."

"I doubt it. He'd 'uv said something by now." Ron retaliated, taking a large bite out of a piece of chicken.

"You can ask Hermione to be sure. She _is _Head Girl." Dean said, gesturing with his fork.

"Well, _something _had better take place, because I'll have one angry Lavender to deal with if it doesn't," grumbled Seamus, moodily drinking from his cup. Harry glanced down to Hermione. She was speaking merrily with Ginny and Sandra Mack. It would be their first Valentine's Day together and he obviously wanted it to be something special. His first and February 14th two years ago had been terribly uncomfortable and he wanted to remedy, and rectify, it. Seamus, however, did have a point. Without Hogsmeade, things would indeed prove difficult. One would have to be creative if every couple in the school was to be staying within its boundaries.

Harry frowned and meddled with his shepherd's pie, starting to think. What could he do for Hermione that would be original and away from prying eyes?

"Oh, right," he muttered, looking at his watch. He grabbed three cookies, "I'm going to set up for the DA meeting. Be there in 15 minutes." The others all nodded or murmured their consent. Hermione saw Harry leaving the Great Hall mid-laugh. There was a DA gathering soon, wasn't there? She cleared her throat and, smiling faintly, turned her attention back to a rambling Ginny. A few minutes later she announced she was going back to the common room.

"I just need to get something from my room." Hermione told them.

"I'll see you there then?" questioned Ginny. The brunette nodded, knowing she was talking about the meeting. Hermione left the table, entirely flighty about the sudden chance of uninterrupted time alone with Harry. She was at the entrance when she heard Ron calling her name. She stopped as he came jogging up to her.

"Were you going to the Room of Requirement?" he wondered.

"Er, yeah…" Hermione admitted.

"Perfect! I'll come with you! I need to ask Harry about this one charm. I know I'm doing it wrong," Ron said, unaware of her faltering happy face.

"O-Okay," she stated. They left the hall. Well, there was one faultless opportunity thrown out of the window.

At the Slytherin table, the Head Boy had watched the whole exchange. He had seen Dumbledore's golden boy run off somewhere a couple of minutes earlier, and then that insufferable Granger get up not _too _long after, intent on leaving. The Weasel had followed her like a sick puppy and assumingly wanted to go with her. Draco Malfoy may have been unbearable to some, or to many, but he was a very perceptive person. He had begun to notice that things between Potter and the Mudblood were taking place, _odd _things. They were acting strangely, more than usual. It was as if they were trying to hide something, or simply just _were_. And as the Head Girl's smile fell just a smidge at something Gryffindor's Keeper had said, and her eyes flickered rapidly out of the Great Hall, Malfoy was strongly reminded of his assumption.

The next day was a Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff Quidditch game. It was to be held right after breakfast. Harry had used all of his free time during the DA meeting and half of the night to concoct some plan for Valentine's Day—he had come up with nothing. It bothered him through the morning meal, but as he walked towards the stadium with his friends, it all but left his mind. (Quidditch had that kind of effect on him). Harry sat in between Ron and Hermione, but had the lion Quidditch team and every member of the DA who _wasn't _flying in the match surrounding him. Ron was so busy noticing Luna sitting next to him that he didn't see his sister holding hands with Colin or Colin's frightened, anxious glances in his direction. In fact, most of their friends sat cozily next to their mates, albeit Harry and Hermione whom left the "cozy" part out. (Daniel Marx was happy with Parvati and essentially an outcast in the Slytherin House for dating a Gryffindor).

As Harry watched some of his friends play against one another in the sky, an idea came to him. He received it just as a Ravenclaw Chaser scored. Luna and Rebecca cheered, jumping up. Hannah, next to Neville and Susan Bones, clicked her tongue in disappointment. Of course… why hadn't he thought of it sooner? It had made his third year bearable, or rather _they _had. Harry decided, with a smile, one method that would make Hermione's Valentine's Day better would be to get her delicious, extravagant candy. To do this, he would use his Invisibility Cloak and the statue of the hump backed witch to travel to the cellar of Honeydukes. He figured he would sneak away that night and tell Ron about it. Perhaps he would like to join Harry….

Hufflepuff won the Quidditch game, which definitely went over well with the badgers. About five minutes before dinner commenced, Harry sat near the fireplace, hurriedly cramming supplies and books into his bag. He had decided to get half an hour's worth of work done before supper, but his time limit was over and he wanted to relay his plan to Ron.

"Harry, ready to go eat?" Ron asked, walking down the staircase.

"Yeah…. Hey, um, I need to tell you something." Harry replied, dropping his bag on the ground and kicking it under a chair. He'd retrieve it later, assuming it'd be safe.

"What is it?"

"I was going to go to Honeydukes later on tonight. Do you want to come?" the dark haired boy quietly wondered. Ron lit up.

"Sure," he exclaimed, "Wait, how?"

"Remember third year?"

"Oh yeah!" the redhead recalled, smiling.

"I reckon we'll go at 8:30, nine." Harry commented, inwardly grinning at how unprefectish and reliable his best friend was.

"All right, yeah. But… why do you want to go? You don't have a valentine do you?" The Boy Who Lived looked at his best friend before giving a dry, nervous laugh.

"No, no… I just have a craving for Honeydukes' sweets," Harry lied, "Why do _you _want to go?"

"You asked _me_!" Ron laughed.

"Yes, well, maybe you're thinking about getting something for Luna," he remarked, arms folded and grinning, "How _are _things with her?"

"Confusing. No, wait—nonexistent," he bluntly responded, glaring at Harry.

"Excuse me! I have an announcement," they heard Hermione call from near the portrait hole, "Before you leave I have something to say!" The common room silenced as Harry and Ron turned to study the Head Girl just like everyone else.

"Thank you," Hermione beamed, "Well, in observation of Valentine's Day, which is tomorrow, the heads of the school have decided to… make things more festive. Throughout the day, flying hearts will deliver sweets to selected people. And while we are not holding a ball, there will be a feast. If you want to send someone a heart, you can sign up on this sheet. A Vanishing Charm has been placed on it so the moment you write the name, it will disappear to keep anyone else from seeing your valentine." Hermione tacked the list on the bulletin board as students began lining up and talking again. It was all well that fluttering hearts would be traversing the castle the next day, but Harry was still committed to his original plan of stealing away into the cellar of the sweet shop. He wanted Hermione's candy to be unique and lavish.

"Hermione, are you coming to dinner with me and Harry?" Ron questioned as the two boys walked over to her.

"Oh, I'll be there shortly. I've just got to check something quickly in my Arithmancy notes," she answered.

"Okay, so we'll not be seeing you for about two hours." Ron nodded, beginning to leave the room.

"I didn't say that!" Hermione yelled after him, slightly offended and smiling. She looked to Harry and blushed a bit. Just the mere sight of him unarmed her.

"Well you might as well go after him," she said, not allowing her shade to intensify by turning on her heel. Harry smiled and left.

Ron told Neville, Dean, and Seamus about their plot of getting into Honeydukes while they all ate; they thought it was fantastic.

"I mean, the hearts are nice and all, but Lavender will expect more." Seamus mentioned.

"Can you two get us candy as well?" Neville pondered.

"Of course." Harry assured.

"And in return we'll cover for you, if you need it." Dean said.

"Just give us five knuts each for our trouble and we'll call it even," smiled Ron.

Harry checked his watch as Dennis moved his rook, or rather commanded it to move. It was 8:45 and time for Mission: V-Day to go underway.

"I win! I've got your queen!" the Creevey boy happily declared.

"Yeah, good game Dennis. Er, I've got to go, so, I'll see you later." Harry told him. He stood up and moved to the boys' staircase. Ron was already in their dorm and Neville would be waiting by the Fat Lady to let them out.

"Harry," Hermione hailed, rushing up to him and smiling, "Let's study!"

"W-What? Now? _Study_?"

"Yes! It's on the NEWT schedule! Go get Ron and let's get started!"

"Oh Merlin…. Look Hermione, I can't study. _We _c-can't study," he revealed.

"Why not?"

"Because… I've gotten behind on my Quidditch plays, and I really need to work on them. And Ron usually helps me so…"

"Quidditch," she sighed, "Fine. You do your Quidditch… thing. I'll just study alone. But don't think you'll always be able to squirm your way out of studying! The next time I say it I mean it!"

"Yes, of course," grinned Harry.

"And stop smiling like that!" Hermione ordered, trying to sound angry but falling short. He winked at her before whirling up the steps in a flurry of black robes.

"That boy…," she grumbled, walking away.

* * *

Harry and Ron made it to Honeydukes without anything going wrong. (Neville was there to let them out and all). They skewered the cellar thoroughly for the best sweets, but stealthily, so not to get caught. They did procure candy for their own delight, but mainly focused on Valentine assortments. (All of the sweets were put into their empty school bags). With the requests from their roommates, it was too simple for Harry to pass off Hermione's box as one of theirs. Ron surprised him by selecting something special, but he insisted it was for his mother. (He wanted to get blood-flavored lollipops and send them to Ginny, signing them from Colin). The two departed after 20 minutes with their bags full and money left on an empty barrel's top. 

Breakfast on the 14th of February set a standard for how the day was going to unfold. All four House tables were adorned with red, white, and pink decorations, including confetti and garner. Many of the younger students were plagued with an unstoppable attack of the giggles. Professor Snape appeared just as disgusted as he had been five years previously when Hogwarts had gone through this with Lockhart. Potions was going to be agony because of it.

"God, today is gong to be unbearable." Ron muttered as the three sat down.

"No it won't." Hermione answered brightly, having caught the spirit of the holiday. She was smiling as she reached for the pink pancakes and trying her best not to look at her boyfriend. For the first time ever, she had someone with whom she could celebrate. Hermione desperately hoped she could find at least ten minutes in which she could be alone with Harry, even that small amount would suffice. She had no idea that Harry had spent a great deal of the previous night pounding his brain for something he could do for her, and had finally come to a resolution. It would take a little preparation beforehand, and require an empty classroom, but it would be worth it.

"When do those little heart things deliver the sweets to people?" Ron questioned.

"During classes. A lot of students signed up for them," she replied.

"I'm sure. Won't the professors be annoyed with them?" Harry said.

"Only the ones—"

"With brooms up their arses?" finished Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione angrily exclaimed.

"In others words, Snape," grinned Harry.

"And maybe McGonagall." Ron added.

"Hey!" she infuriatingly said.

"You're right—Higgins might be in that category as well."

When breakfast ended, Harry and Ron bid Hermione goodbye then made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. The redhead confessed to the Seeker that he didn't even have to worry himself with Colin's antics that particular day; he felt his threat still lingered in the boy's mind. (Harry personally felt Ron should be worried about _Ginny's _behavior but said nothing). True to Hermione's word, the valentines came drifting into the first class of the day 600 seconds into Sarai Higgins lecture. She didn't comment once throughout the entire lesson but it was evident she did not care for them. Padma Patil was the first person to receive one, and jumped when it stopped in front of her burst open, dropping a neat pile of confections. Ron received a heart from an anonymous source during DADA, to his surprise, and Harry had three hearts flank him. (Two of them bore names, one did not). Malfoy was stricken with competitive jealousy until he received four hearts. After that, he wore a superior grin.

After Defense, Ron had Divination and Harry had Charms with Hermione. Professor Flitwick, unlike Higgins, seemed to enjoy the valentines. This go round, four bursting hearts flew in for him. He grew redder with each one and Hermione's eyes grew wider. It would have made things much simpler, and more comfortable, if they had all come from Hermione, but he knew they hadn't. (The two with names told him that). Hermione only stared at the candy and remnants of the hearts for a moment before writing again, pretending she had never seen them.

At lunch it seemed as though numerous older students had caught the contagious giggles as well. Dean, Neville, and Seamus thanked Harry Ron again for their private trip to Hogsmeade, when Hermione wasn't paying attention and told them their female counterparts would love them. (They were going to give them to the girls before dinner). Ron awkwardly told Hermione and Harry that Luna had sent him a valentine in Trelawney's class while fidgeting with his silverware.

"Crazy huh?" he chuckled.

"Ron," Hermione began, "Stop with the act. You know Luna likes you. It's horribly obvious." Harry grinned widely as Ron' s jaw dropped. He moved it wordlessly three times before picking it up. He didn't really speak after that, but did wear a diminutive smile.

Potions turned out to be just as Harry had predicted: wonderfully awful. Snape was more spiteful than normal, and his students actually feared receiving hearts. Twenty minutes had passed when the first three came fluttering in the dungeon for Malfoy, Harry, and Pavati. Mercifully, they were silent and Snape had his back to them. Harry got another one fifteen minutes later from a girl named Otter, and this time, the Slytherin Head of House witnessed it.

"Potter," he started between clenched teeth, "You are supposed to be watching over your undoubtedly incorrect potion, not tinkering with useless objects! Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Harry heatedly glared at him, knowing how idiotic and scarring it would be to argue back. The Head Boy was smirking happily. Still, it wasn't as though Harry could control the blasted things! When Harry received his tenth one of the day, and third one in Potions, Snape lost it.

"That is your second interruption of the day Potter," he shouted, pointing his wand, "_Finite_!" Harry's heart exploded, along with the candy inside of it. Everyone watched, flabbergasted.

"Detention, tonight at eight," the professor snarled, "It's nice to know your fame hasn't dwindled." Harry shot up and began to protest furiously as Malfoy and others loudly laughed. He was vexed by the fact that Harry had gotten more hearts than he, but gloated in Harry's misfortune and embarrassment.

"SILENCE," Snape bellowed. Everyone, even Harry, quieted, "Return to your brewing, now!"

Harry fumed for the rest of the period, refusing to acknowledge his professor. _The bloody bastard gave me detention on Valentine's Day, and for something that wasn't even my fault_, he savagely thought, _What about Hermione! _At one point,Parvati moved from her spot next to Daniel in order to sit with Harry. He appreciated her gesture of empathy but said little to her. When the class was over, Harry curtly dropped his vial on the desk and left, feeling considerably better. He had decided that he was not going to serve Snape's detention and, momentarily, did not care how the greasy man would react.

The food at dinner was excessive and even more tantalizing than usual in the acknowledgment of the holiday. All of the desserts were red, pink and white.

"So, Harry," Ron grinned, having just heaped whipped cream on his pink pudding, "How many girls sent you hearts?"

"Um… well," he started, noticing that Hermione was inevitably listening, "Uh… ten, I guess. Well, really nine. _Snape _destroyed one."

"Ten! Dear Merlin!" Ron began to laugh. Hermione's mouth was pointedly ajar.

"Someone's the most wanted wizard in the school," smiled Neville. (Seamus and Dean were sitting with their girlfriends alongside many others with the same idea). Harry didn't want to be the most wanted wizard in the school; he wanted everyone to know he was taken and happy.

"Ten… wow. Can't say I'm surprised though," mentioned Ron. Hermione pushed her ice cream closer together with her spoon and wrinkled her nose in a rigid, concentrated manner as Luna Lovegood and Hannah Abott approached them.

"Oh, Neville, thank you for the chocolates! I love them! However did you get them!" cried Hannah, kissing him on the cheek. Neville blushed.

"And thank you Ronald for the flying, red muscle." Luna said. Harry quirked both eyebrows and Hermione gaped at Ron. He looked like a fish out of water again.

"But… I—how—there was… no… didn't," he sputtered, "I-I didn't sign any valentine!"

"No, you did not, but I am in Ravenclaw for a reason." She then drifted away smiling, leaving an elated Harry and pleased Hermione to grill Ron.

Standing by his conviction, Harry omitted his eight o'clock detention. Instead, he found a deserted classroom and transformed it to his liking. That took 20 minutes of his time, and he spent the next 10 in the common room waiting for a witch to walk up the girls' staircase. When a fifth year fulfilled that requirement, Harry hastily followed her, despite her inquisitive glances. When he stood in front of Hermione's dormitory, he prayed she was alone and knocked.

"Harry," she noted as she pulled the door open, shocked but happy, "How'd you get up here?"

"I walked behind someone as she was coming up," he replied, walking in and closing the barrier.

"So," Harry half smiled, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Yes," started Hermione, "You too. I sent you a valentine. I signed it 'Otter', after my patronus."

"So that was you?" he grinned.

"Yes. You noticed it? I'm surprised, what with all of your others. Ten?"

"Hermione—"

"No Harry, I'm _not _mad at you, honestly. I just… I just forget how many girls have their eyes on you! It's madness! I mean, they think you're eligible…" She sat down on the bed warily.

"How many did you get today?" asked Harry, gazing at her.

"Three," Hermione told him, "One was a friendly gesture sent by David and the other two were anonymous."

"Hmm," Damn Rice, "So it seems a few people have their eyes on _you _as well."

"Maybe, but not ten," she said, looking fearfully up at him, "Maybe you _should _just be eligible. Maybe I…. All that competition…" Harry got down on his knees in front of her and took her hands.

"Stop it, stop doing that," he instructed, "Stop doubting, stop with the insecurity. It's not like you!"

"I'm sorry Harry, but it's so hard to ignore! I told myself for years I wasn't good enough for you! I mean, you… you—" Hermione remarked.

"Am with _you_," he forcefully pointed out. The Boy Who Lived then sighed as the Head Girl tried not to cry, "I just wish you could see you through my eyes." Harry then stood up and pulled Hermione with him.

"Come on, I want to give you your Valentine's gift," he said.

"My?… You did something for me?" she wondered, head spinning.

"Of course. Boyfriends are supposed to do that every once in awhile."

Harry and Hermione arrived to the classroom a quarter before nine o'clock. Numerous students were walking the halls talking and/or holding hands, before curfew or a perturbed Filch came.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now." Harry observed, quietly shutting (and locking) the door. He grabbed the elaborate Honeydukes' box of candy on the ground as she regained her vision. Hermione gasped. The room was dark but had light coming from the stars twinkling on the ceiling. The floor was soft and green: grass, with flowers strewn in it. The walls showed a lush terrain of hills and trees illuminated by more of the night sky. It was magnificent.

"You… you did this?" she whispered.

"Yeah, earlier this evening. It's a good thing I'm in NEWT Transfiguration and Charms, huh? I even conjured the classrooms' furniture into rocks." Harry explained, kicking one. She took the room in a little while longer before turning to him. Her face was full of immense pride, compassion, and adoration.

"Again, Happy Valentine's Day," he said, handing over the container of confections. She took it and stared at it, then back at him. Hermione was understandably speechless.

* * *

A/N: Eh. So it might not have been as long as once thought. Whatever! About Snape's incantation (_Finite)_: I don't know if it had the right effect, or if it's even a JK Rowling spell. I was just too lazy to move for about two seconds and get the books and research it. So sue me:D I'll post again… Wednesday, _perhaps_ sooner. We'll see what Fate has in store for me. 


	24. Suspicion

A/N: Maybe I should just stop announcing when I'm going to post—it seems to never be on that day. :Laughs: Oh, I've been spelling Abbott wrong for about… _ever_. I've been forgetting the other B. Now I feel stupid.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 24

Harry and Hermione's night had been splendid. They lied in the grass for most all of the time, staring up at the heavens. They chattered with absurd, expected ease as they stayed in one another's arms and ate Hermione's entire set of confections. During a few moments they said nothing at all, and on other numerous occasions, they became engrossed with each other's lips. They grudgingly returned to Gryffindor Tower at eleven o'clock, just having missed the Ravenclaw prefects. (Harry had been wise to stash his Cloak in a corner on his initial visit to change the room). They kissed goodnight under the Cloak right outside the Fat Lady's portrait and then made their way inside. Hermione went to bed feeling like the most fortunate witch at Hogwarts; his gift had connected them on an even deeper level and had helped remove a huge portion of her insecurities. Harry went to bed with a smile plastered on his face. He felt he had done an excellent job in satisfying Hermione.

It was good Harry had enjoyed himself, because he paid severely for averting his detention. Snape only said one sentence to him during Potions ("Potter, stay when the class dismisses"), and Harry knew he was in for it. No one showed up Severus Snape without getting his or hers in the end. Harry walked stiffly up to the desk after everyone else had gone, under Snape's horrible, fixed stare.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," the teacher said in a voice little more than a whisper and full of menace, "Detention for a month, every night."

"But, but I have Quidditch practices, and my… lessons, and—" Harry interrupted.

"Then you will serve your detention at five o'clock in the morning if need be!" Snape growled, his face twisting with fury, "Do you understand me Potter!"

"Yes," the boy spat.

"Rest assured I will be reporting your blatant disregard for my authority to the headmaster. Now get out of my sight before I do something I will come to regret!"

"I shouldn't have gotten the detention in the first place." Harry grumbled, stalking off.

"What did you say?" hissed Snape.

"Nothing at all, _sir_." Harry left, agitated in the very least. He could probably escape the torturous future in store for him if he went to Dumbledore and explained Snape's ludicrous reasoning behind the original detention, but he would not. Somehow, that'd make matters even worse.

Harry told Ron and Hermione about his position at lunch. Ron pitied him, but also admired his nerve to outright disobey Snape. Hermione was slightly upset with him but nothing more. It was hard to berate Harry for his actions when he had done them in order to spend time with her. Harry's second blow of the day came after the DA meeting and before his detention: Ron admitted to him that he had sent Hermione a valentine.

"I… thought it'd be, nice," he justified, nervously rubbing his arm. Well, Harry was getting his wish, but suddenly didn't want it anymore.

The two remaining weeks of February faded into the beginning of March. Harry and Hermione had been together for three months and had _still _yet to tell anyone. It seemed that with more time, the prospect only became more frightening. For Ron's 18th birthday, the DA threw him a party, which he loved. The refreshments were provided by the school's kitchens, The Three Broomsticks, and Honeydukes (via Seamus and Harry). Dean made the tall Keeper drink a little firewhiskey, ignoring Hermione's screams of protest, since he was now allowed to drink. When four of the Gryffindor seventh year boys were about to climb into bed on March first, Ron came bursting into the room looking entirely stunned. He babbled to them how Luna had bombarded and then kissed him- this kept the five up for another hour.

After Valentine's Day, which deepened their relationship, Hermione and Harry found even more time, and places, to snog; they made a point to. The snogs had also become more passionate. The two teenagers managed to run away often (before or after Harry's unavoidable, nightly punishment) to their various spots: the Astronomy Tower, Head Room, Room of Requirement, deserted classrooms, behind the greenhouses, in the locker room, in dark corners with no one present, the tunnel to Hogsmeade, and the prefects' bathroom. They had also taken to looking at one another more regularly when surrounded by others, though they broke the connection before it carried on too long.

Draco Malfoy's suspicion of Harry and Hermione did not falter; in fact, it became stronger. He was now quite certain the two were hiding something from all of their moronic associates. Did no one else notice the way they looked at each other, or the fact that they seemed to be in one another's company more than usual, and that they were somewhat distant to the people around them? How dense were the Gryffindors! If Malfoy didn't know any better, he would say that Harry Hermione were going out.

The sole child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy was not the only one to notice Harry and Hermione's strange behavior; Ron had started to pick up on it as well. His two best friends were acting… differently. They could be found conversing amongst themselves a vast amount of time as if they wanted no one to interrupt them, but the biggest thing was that they were missing in action quite a bit. Ron began to truly observe this when Harry told him about his old absences and how they were actually training sessions. (The redhead had been taken aback and sympathetic). Harry was the one normally gone, but Hermione would only stay a short while before leaving herself, presumably to study or deal with her Head duties. Sometimes Ron wouldn't see either of them until they walked back into whatever room he was in, together. Some days, when he was avidly talking to someone else, they would tell him they were going to the DA meeting early to prepare.

Ron didn't entirely know what to think. Perhaps he was overanalyzing the whole situation… perhaps he was scrutinizing pointlessly. Harry _did _have real detention every night now, Quidditch, and the DA, and Hermione was Head Girl and a workaholic. The only fact Ron was certain of was that he felt left out at times. Whether or not his friends were keeping something secret was yet to be proven.

* * *

"Hogsmeade is on Saturday." Ron gladly remarked, the breeze running through his flaming hair. 

"Good. It'll be nice to have butterbeer again." Harry said lazily, arms on his knees. It was lunch and the trio sat near the lake on a pleasant, brisk, March day. They had visited Hagrid not ten minutes beforehand.

"Yes. Ron, perhaps you should take Luna for one." Hermione said, from behind her book. (_Tedious Transfiguration: NEWT Level_).

"What?" he questioned.

"You know," she prompted, lowering the tome and smiling, "On your date." Ron tore up grass in response, narrowing his eyes.

"Don't tell me you're not going to ask her!" Hermione said.

"You two kissed!" Harry exclaimed.

"_She _kissed _me_!" defended Ron.

"Honestly, I don't get you! You went with her in December!" she argued.

"You told me she was pretty, and you said she's not as off as she once was," added Harry.

"She is! And she's not!" Ron claimed.

"Then stop acting stupid, Ron, and ask Luna to Hogsmeade," Hermione commanded, reading again, "I don't know _why _you won't just give her a chance." Ron looked at her (or rather the front of her book), glanced at Harry, then stared at the water.

Harry found himself in Potions not too long after and facing an extremely arduous class assignment.

"You will be devising your very own potion," Snape informed smugly to the bewildered faces, "It will make up ¼ of your grade. You will be working in pairs in order to lessen the possibility of mistakes, though I do not have my hopes up," His eyes fell on Harry, "There are specific and detailed regulations set for creating your serum, and any deviation from them will result in a significant, lower mark. You will find my expectations on the board." Snape indifferently waved his wand and words appeared. His pupils began to immediately copy them onto parchment.

"I would prefer your potion to be lethal," the professor told them. Harry silently snorted. Of course Snape would desire something as malevolent as that.

"Sir? Do we choose our own partners?" Sandra Mack, one of Hermione's roommates, pondered. His gaze shot to her.

"Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Ms. Mack," Snape noted, "_I _shall be dividing the class up. In fact, I'll do it right now." Harry grated his teeth as he continued writing. He was bound to get someone terrible, maybe the dumbest person present (whom happened to be Crabbe). No… Snape just read Ernie was with Crabbe…. Daniel was with Terry Boot, Parvati was with Pansy Parkinson, Padma was with Blaise…

"Potter," Harry froze. Snape's voice became silky, "You are with Mr. Malfoy." Pansy, who sat next to Malfoy, giggled when he sneered at Harry. Harry's gaze returned to his parchment only to see his hand was shaking from sheer aggravation. He might as well not even do the ruddy project; with Malfoy as his partner, he was ensured to fail. They would most likely kill each other before the third day! Harry didn't know whom he despised more, Snape, or Malfoy.

He performed well that night when dueling with Tonks. All he had to do was visualize the two people who constantly made his life at Hogwarts miserable. Harry had luckily served his detention two hours before his lesson so he could return to Gryffindor Tower before ten o'clock, but that didn't mean he could go to bed. He was beyond tired but could not go to sleep: he had far too much homework to work on. His friends joined him, Hermione doing so joyously and Ron, resentfully. (She went to bed 120 minutes before they did). The next day in Transfiguration, Hermione asked Harry if they could study for NEWTs.

"I can't today," he responded, "We have Quidditch practice at 6:30, and then I've got my God awful detention after that."

"Only one more week left, mate." Ron optimistically said.

"Harry…" she began, frowning.

"I know- we have to study! We can… do it tomorrow!" he rationalized.

"There's a DA meeting," stated Ron.

"And you have detention," she reminded.

"So I'll… I'll… serve it at 5:30 in the morning!" Harry resolved, throwing out an arm in frustration.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, alarmed.

"Well I've got to find a way somehow to make time for everything!"

When Harry returned to the locker room after practice that night, he found a note from Hermione inside his compartment. She wanted him to meet her in the Head Room when he had completed his punishment for Snape.

"See you in the common room later then, yeah?" Ron wondered, walking over to him.

"Uh, yeah," Harry confirmed, crumbling up the request, "Listen, maybe you should study a bit to appease Hermione."

"I suppose… but don't expect any miracles."

Harry spent two laborious hours sanitizing disgusting, vile jars for the Potions master, but after that he zipped over to the Head Room. He was worn out yet again, but seeing Hermione would counter some of that. She was on one of the sofas when he entered, immersed in notes. Consequently, they were quickly forgotten when she saw Harry. He fell onto the couch and put his head in her lap. He vented about all of the things he had to deal with, how there weren't enough hours in the day, and how much he missed sleep.

"Tired, are you?" she inquired.

"Knackered," corrected Harry.

"I'm sorry I keep pestering you about studying," Hermione said, stroking his hair, "I forget how much you have on your plate."

"You have a lot too and you manage just fine," he observed. He idly hit the orb on her necklace.

"Yes, but I'm not captain, don't have draining meetings with Aurors, and am not being tormented by Professor Snape every night," she mused, "You know… I could help you with your load."

"Really?"

"Yes. I can plan out the DA meetings- you know, the lesson plan. I mean, you can obviously look them over and add certain things, but it'll free up some of your time."

"You'd do that?" Harry wondered.

"Of course." Hermione assured, continuing to play in his hair.

"Thanks 'Mione."

"Don't call me that," she smiled, kissing him on the forehead.

"I'll need all the time I can get so I can work on this stupid assignment for Potions. It's the single, most difficult thing I've ever seen and it's with Malfoy! Snape is just evil," he explained bitterly.

"I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione grinned sadly, "If I could help you with that, I would."

"Well, you can help me forget about it."

"How?"

"By kissing me."

"Typical," she mentioned, obliging nonetheless. There was no fire to cackle in the hearth as they continued kissing each other. His left hand grazed the back of her neck, and her necklace hung somewhere dangerously near his closed eyes.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, laughing against his lips, "Maybe you should sit up."

"Maybe." Harry concurred, sitting up so rapidly it caught her off guard. He lifted one knee on the sofa and put his arms on either side of her, moving until her back came in contact with the right arm. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they commenced kissing again. After 12 weeks, the fact that Hermione could kiss Harry still excited. Harry removed his lips from hers and placed them on her neck. Oh no… he was going there. He traced small kisses everywhere, including her collarbone (which made her inhale sharply), before going in for the heavy-duty work. He chose a spot on the side of her throat and began to suckle it. It wasn't fair; he knew of her tender site but she had yet to learn his. Hermione's fingers vanished in his black tresses as she began to lose herself. Sometime after Harry had started, two minutes to be precise, she dazedly came out of her reverie.

"Harry," she moaned, "Maybe you… should…" Hermione wanted to say 'stop', but it fell away when she felt his tongue. She shut up and closed her eyes, letting him go on with his task.

When Harry got back to his dormitory, he was surprised to see his roommates still awake, though all dressed in their pajamas.

"Harry," Ron grinned, "Come hear the good news!"

"What?" he responded, sitting on his bed and slowly removing his shoes.

"Tell 'em Longbottom; it's _your _news." Seamus chirpily instructed. Neville was a tad red, but smiling.

"I, er…," he began, "I'm… going out with Hannah."

"Really? Since when?" Harry asked, now a little more alert.

"Today." Dean answered.

"Have you always fancied her?"

"Well, since fifth year, right about Christmas. Before that, I f-faniced Hermione, you know…" Neville said. Yes, he had told Ron and Harry last year that he had been entranced with Hermione from years two to four.

"I'm glad for you Neville." Harry remarked.

"Thanks Harry," the once chubby boy smiled.

"So Ron, not going out with Luna yet?" smirked Seamus.

"No," he shot back.

"Why not? She likes you, doesn't she? I don't see the problem." Dean commented.

"Yeah, you're the only one without a girlfriend Ron." Harry casually stated without thinking, slipping his bed shirt over his head. His four friends stared at him. He gazed back, uncertain as to their expressions, and then it sunk in. _Great going genius!_, he screamed at himself.

"The only one?" repeated Dean.

"Hiding something from us, are you Harry?" Seamus chuckled.

"Yeah, what about you," Ron wondered. His face was easily the most baffled, "_You _aren't going out with anyone!"

"No, no… of course I'm not," Harry hurriedly started, "I meant that you're the only one out of _those _three without someone! I-I wasn't including myself."

"Oh," nodded Neville. Seamus stretched his arms, groaning loudly.

"Anyone want a quick game of Exploding Snap?" he proposed. Ron looked inquisitively at Harry for a moment longer before turning and agreeing. Harry sighed as he went to pull his curtains around him, still scolding himself for what he had blurted out.

Hermione was habitually the first girl awake in her dormitory each morning, and the next day proved no different. She made her mandatory pilgrimage to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror as she lathered her toothbrush with toothpaste. Crookshanks came sauntering in as Hermione gasped, dropped her toothbrush, and lunged at the mirror. There, on her neck—something terribly visible. It was rather large, and not attractive. It… _it was a hickey. _Hermione began to whine, tracing it with her fingers. Oh, curse Harry! _He _had done this to her! She knew last night she had wanted him to cease; she had tried to resist him. (Neither argument was entirely true, but she did not need to reason at the moment).

_Why _had she let him defile her throat like that? Why! _For one, it felt _good, a voice told her, _and two, because he's Harry and you let him get away with everything_.

"I do not!" she hissed. Because he's Harry…. That seemed to be the answer for everything lately. Hermione first learned of hickeys at eleven, and had thought no self-respecting female, or _person_, would allow anyone to leave such a hideous mark on their body. Now here she was, six years later, with that same hideous mark. Hermione knew she could get rid of it with make-up, or even better, magic, but she wanted the giver to get a good look at it first. Deeply irritated, she tried to brush her teeth once more.

Hermione sat in a chair with her hand covering her hickey, waiting for Harry to come down on his way to breakfast. Ron had already left, telling her he was too ravenous to wait for them. She had looked at him, annoyed, and said nothing in return. (Far from ravenous he was. It simply boiled down to him being greedy). Harry finally came into the common room with Dean and Neville ten minutes after Ron's departure.

"Harry," she stated, standing up. He looked over to the sound of her voice and smiled, "I need to talk to you." Harry followed Hermione to one of the corners of the room, interested.

"What's up?" he pondered, noticing how she was cradling her throat.

"Nothing up, but rather on," she replied.

"Huh?"

"You left _this _on my neck!" Hermione took her hand away and Harry couldn't help but grin.

"A hickey!" he noted.

"Yes, a hickey!" she concurred, clearly angry.

"That's wicked!"

"No it is not!"

"Yes it is. It's sort of like a… trademark." Harry smiled. Hermione stared at him, dumbfounded and with growing indignation. Harry thought she was awfully cute in this state.

"What would people think if they knew the Head Girl let some, some… some _boy _suck her neck!" she demanded, eyes flashing. Harry would have kissed her to calm her down, but they were in the common room.

"So I'm just a boy now?" he questioned.

"Look! Don't turn-"

"Okay, okay, I apologize! I'm sorry, really," Harry said, not wanting her voice to rise, "But if you don't want me kissing—"

"Sucking." Hermione retorted.

"Right. Well, doing that to your neck in the future, then… you might as well have no neck, because I can't help it." She looked at him with an expression a little less than a glare before averting her eyes.

"You're lucky I know my charms," she grumbled, a smile creeping onto her face. Harry grinned.

* * *

Ron caved in at last and had the decency to ask Luna to Hogsmeade on Friday; she accepted, naturally. 

"This doesn't mean we're going out," he assured his friends.

Harry was looking forward to spending another village trip alone with Hermione, but when Severus Snape approached the Gryffindor table during breakfast on Saturday morning, Harry should have guessed something was wrong. Most of the hall watched with fascination, but the lions were acutely frightened. They all instinctively bowed their heads and ignored his sadistic smile.

"Potter," he began, stopping near the trio and Ginny. She moved down a bit.

"Wh—uh… yes?" Harry said, eyeing Snape apprehensively.

"You will not be serving your detention tonight."

"R-Really?" he wondered, brightening.

"Instead, you will serve it at noon," the professor informed, smirking. Ron's mouth opened and Hermione looked appalled.

"B-But! But Hogs—" Harry initiated.

"Meade? Yes…. It appears as if you will not be attending, doesn't it?" With that, Snape walked away. Much of the table gazed at Harry, whether it had heard the exchange or not.

"Harry, that is absolutely unfair! Go to Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione urged obstinately.

"Yeah, he can't do that! Just up and tell you the day of!" supported Ron.

"Well, he just did," Harry sourly remarked, "There's not much I can do about it."

At eleven, Hermione and Harry were walking around the grounds. (Ron was in the common room trying to get last minute homework completed).

"So you're really not going to try and fight him?" she asked as they passed Hagrid's hut.

"It'll be worthless, Hermione, you know that. This is Snape we're talking about," he told her, sighing.

"I'll be on my own…"

"No you won't. You can go with Ginny."

"She'll be with Colin. _All _of my friends will be with their boyfriends, and mine will be here."

"Not of his own free will." Harry spat, though the anger wasn't meant for her. There was silence before Hermione revealed:

"Then I'll just stay at the castle."

"No, don't do that," he replied, squeezing her hand lovingly.

"Why not?"

"Because people might get suspicious."

"And?" she demanded.

"And I don't want you to be bored just because of me. You haven't been to Hogsmeade since before Christmas—it'll be good." Harry said.

"I've been enough times to last a lifetime! And I won't be bored!"

"But we won't even be able to be with each other! I'll be Snape's servant for eons, _and _I've got a lesson with the git. There's no escaping him," The two ceased walking and were now by the greenhouses, "Hermione, please just go." She gazed at him before relenting, though exhaling crossly.

"Fine." Hermione agreed. She checked to make sure no one was nearby, kissed him on the lips, and then left him alone.

Hogsmeade turned out to be all right. Ron had an amiable time with Luna and Hermione indeed spent her time with Ginny. (Colin opted to stay with his friends for which both witches were grateful). Harry's time at Hogwarts was nowhere near as enjoyable, and the trio's study "party" that night at seven only worsened the deal. However, his impromptu snog with Hermione made the day "okay" instead of "dreadful".

On Sunday, Harry prepared to enter the pit of snakes: he had his first meeting with Malfoy regarding their potion. Ron, truly sympathetic towards his friend, offered to go to the library as well and sit a few tables away in case Harry needed backup, but he declined. At five minutes until six o'clock, Harry departed for the library, hoping to die accidentally along the way.

"You're late Potter." Malfoy pointed out when Harry found him sitting in close proximity of the restricted section.

"By two minutes," he answered.

"Like I said—you're late." Harry shook his head and roughly sat down, taking out supplies.

"It's due in two weeks, you know. We really should have begun sooner," the blonde lectured.

"You're the one who came to me on _Friday _and demanded we meet today, almost a full week after we received the assignment!"

"Don't put this on me Potter!"

"And don't put it on me, _Malfoy_!" A resounding, "_Quiet_!" then came drifting over to them, although Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. They went through a few minutes of furious, silent page turning and glares before Harry commented:

"We need to find out—"

"It's going to be lethal." Malfoy shortly cut in.

"Okay, but—"

"And I was thinking of calling it, 'Malfoy's Mayhem'," he smiled arrogantly. Malfoy's Mayhem? Over Harry's dead body!

"Since you have all the answers, what does it do?" Harry asked, arms crossed and glowering.

"First, you lose your hearing. Then, you go blind. And when you finally begin to panic and lose all hope, your heart just _stops_," Malfoy described quietly, eyes shining with cold delight. Harry stared at him, "I wonder how Weasley would react to it." The Gryffindor balled his fists and a spasm of wrath hit his face.

"Fine," he snapped. It was a great idea, and it'd be wiser to work with Malfoy's ideas when trying to do a project for Snape, but Harry would admit neither, "Do you have the ingredients for it? Or anything else, like the antidote?"

"Now Potter, that's why we're here isn't it? To research related potions and figure it out that way," the Slytherin smiled, his voice portraying that he was speaking to a five year old. Harry growled and shot up from the table, going to fetch a book to keep him from hexing the Head Boy.

Thirty minutes later, when _some _of the vexation was gone and Harry sat writing the (possible) effects of too much or too little of their serum, Malfoy started to chuckle.

"I doubt there's anything funny in the ingredients." Harry brusquely said.

"No…" Malfoy confirmed.

"Well then d'you mind shutting up?" A minute later the Slytherin asked:

"Do you want to know what's so humorous Potter?"

"Not really!" Harry said through clenched teeth.

"_You _are." Malfoy went on, smiling. Harry glared at him for a moment before muttering an agitated, "Whatever". Another three minutes crawled by before the Head Boy spoke up once more.

"Don't they say the best relationships start off as friendships?" he wondered, leaning back and twirling his lavish quill.

"Are you actually going to work!" the Gryffindor Seeker inquired, slamming his own quill down.

"Well, don't they? Just answer that."

"I-I don't know!" Harry declared, becoming livid. What on Earth was his rival going on about! Malfoy smirked and returned to his textbook.

"I heard a rumor the other day," he mentioned, writing something.

"Good for you—I don't care." Harry told him. Why in Merlin's name was Malfoy speaking to Harry? It was beginning to unnerve the Potter boy.

"You should. It's about Granger." Malfoy commented. Harry glanced at him, though said nothing.

"Apparently some dolt in another House fancies her," the blonde continued, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye, "Can you believe that? Is it not the most revolting lie you've ever heard? _Who _in his right mind would like someone as low as Granger? It's a sick joke. Even to contemplate the possibility—"

"Shut up!" growled Harry, breaking his writing utensil in half. Some of the books on the shelves around them vehemently flew out of their places, crashing to the ground. Malfoy sat up, shocked by the outburst of magic, but pressed on.

"I'm sorry Potter. Did I upset you?" he remarked, eyes showing excitement and fear.

"I swear, if you say one more word about Hermione, Malfoy, I'll—"

"Getting a little sensitive, aren't we?"

"She's my _friend_!" Harry snarled. His wand suddenly rolled across the table, emitting a spark or two.

"Are you sure there's not more to it? Sure the Mudblood's _only _a friend?" Malfoy pushed, gripping his own wand as a precaution. (He had never seen Potter so riled up). Harry then shot up from his chair, flushing and looking positively infuriated. Before either boy could say or do anything, the librarian came hurtling towards them.

"_What _is going on here," she demanded, "No excessive magic in the library, and certainly no noise! Wha—are those _books _lying on the floor! I _knew _there was a surge of magic!" Before Pince's rant could go on, Harry snatched his bag and wand, and rushed from the room.

* * *

A/N: Dude. This has been the longest chapter I've ever written, no joke. _And _I was forced to remove a scene and put it in the next chapter, and it's still quite lengthy! It's madness I tell you, MADNESS! Anyway, I don't know if British kids say 'hickey', but if not, they do in this story. 


	25. Sweet Vengeance

A/N: A thank you and a half to **Claire Duckworth **for reviewing. Yes, I agree with you on the whole lack of Ron issue. I myself think he's not in the story enough, seeing how he _is _my favorite HP character, but I don't exactly know how to change that. It's too late for chapters 1-24, and I know his precise role for the rest of the story, so it's kinda up in the air. I dunno. Also! I plan on having more Quidditch scenes in later chapters, for anyone who cares. I know I stopped showing it for the most part, but it'll definitely come back, what with the Quidditch Final and what not.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 25

What Draco Malfoy had said in the library did not sit well with Harry. If he thought correctly, then the Head Boy knew about his relationship with Hermione, or at least had a hunch about it. Perhaps Malfoy was only curious nosy, and had been trying to get a rise out of Harry…. Whatever the case, it bothered Harry. He had resolved to not mention the encounter to Hermione; he knew her reaction might be worse than his. The second time Harry and Malfoy met to research their potion, Harry didn't say a word unless it pertained to the assignment. They managed to obtain all of the information they needed, and only had the most strenuous part left to do: brewing the potion. It would take all of the time they had left at their disposal to create, and they would have to come together roughly every other day to check it status.

Malfoy had been prudent as in returning to his typical insults and not bringing up Hermione again. However, this did not stop him from mulling it over in his brain; he was still convinced the two Gryffindors were hiding something. Ron and Luna's relationship appeared to be up in the air, due to the fact that he had not yet consented to going out with her.

"My last detention with Snape was last night—I am finally free!" Harry smiled at breakfast one morning, grabbing a scone.

"Now you have more time in your schedule again," noted Ron.

"Yes, and it's perfect for studying." Hermione clarified. Harry's mood fell just a little and Ron groaned. Her gaze fell sharply on him.

"I'll have you know, Ron, that NEWTs—" she shrilly prompted.

"Are in May. Yes, we know Hermione," he grumbled.

"Well that's less than two months away!"

"Actually, they're at the end of May, so it's more like two _exactly_." Hermione opened her mouth to reply but before she could get a word out, the post arrived. Hedwig had a letter for Harry (from Lupin), and Hermione had an issue of the _Daily Prophet_. There, on the front in blaring letters, was: **Fickle Fudge: **_Minister of Magic Quits!_ There was a photograph of Cornelius Fudge with his bowler hat in front of his face, trying to escape the picture's boundaries.

"Oh my God!" Hermione exclaimed, happily. The boys looked at the newspaper.

"Bloody hell!" Ron weakly said. He turned to his left and snatched a second year's paper.

"Hey!" he shouted. Ron and Hermione eagerly commenced the article as Harry jumped into his letter so he could read the article next.

"Here, Harry," offered Hermione, when she had finished. The Great Hall was starting to liven up from the news.

"No need," he replied, shocked, "Remus wrote me all about it…. The Order couldn't be happier."

"Can you believe Fudge gave his post up? He _willingly _gave away his power!"

"Good—it's about time!"

"Sure is," Ron added, throwing the paper back to the boy, "No one liked the wanker anyway! He laid out a red carpet for You-Know-Who to come back on!"

"But to abandon the wizarding world during the current state of things," she remarked.

"We have Bones! At least she's competent!" Harry interjected passionately.

"I know she's an excellent leader, it's just…" Hermione sighed, at a total loss for words.

"Fudge apparently never came back to work after Michaels offed himself." Ron pointed out, glancing at Hermione's copy of the _Prophet_.

"Yeah, and the liar said he'd only need a month." Harry said.

"The fact that the Wizengamot member was murdered pushed him to do it. I think he was afraid… thought he might possibly be targeted next." Hermione explained.

"Not even Voldemort would waste his time on Fudge," snorted Harry. In Fudge's piece, there had been mention of a Wizengamot witch dying by the hands of Voldemort himself. There had also been an in depth article about it following the Minister's. The Ministry would be in a frenzy, trying to fill her position and cleaning up after Fudge.

The three were silent as they processed the information of such a prominent figure in the wizarding world dying, or better yet being killed. It was a definite travesty. All around them, students were ardently discussing the Minister's final bow. Harry looked to the Head Table. All of the teachers were in deep conversation and a few copies of the newspaper could be seen. Dumbledore was speaking gravely with Professors McGonagall and Sprout. Snape wore an amused expression while talking to Higgins.

"Well, I can say Fudge made the only smart move of his career: backing down." Harry determinedly stated.

"I agree with you in that Fudge was less than capable, Harry, I just don't know if the Ministry of Magic can afford to be in turmoil with V-Voldemort at large." Hermione said. Ron glanced sideways at the Potter boy, who seemed to be seriously considering her opinion.

Later that day in the afternoon, Harry was walking alone, and slothfully, to his classroom. His burdened thoughts consisted of Fudge, the prophecy, the Wizengamot woman, Voldemort, Hermione, and his Potions' project. He sighed loudly as he passed a broomcloset. The door of it suddenly flung open and he was dragged inside to the waiting darkness.

"What the—" he frantically started, trying desperately to quickly find his wand.

"_Lumos_," muttered a female voice. A beam of light illuminated Hermione's face and playful grin.

"Hermione, what are you doing? Why are you in a broomcloset," Harry smiled at the weirdness of it all, "Why did you force me in here?"

"I wanted to see you," she reported.

"And it had to be in here? Right! How'd you know I was walking by?"

"I knew you had class and that you always take this route."

"Well, I've got class."

"I don't. At least, not for some time."

"Well I'm not as fortunate as you. I'd really like to just stay here with you, in a… er… broomcloset, but I'll be late, and—" He reached for the handle.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, covering his hand with hers.

"Hermione, what—" Harry began.

"I want to snog."

"_Now_? It can't wait!" As if to answer this, Hermione dropped her wand (thus settling them into blackness again) and grabbed the front of his robes, pulling his face down to hers. It was hard making out in obscurity and with brooms to fall over or bump in to, but Harry rose to the occasion, forgetting about his class or being tardy. He emerged a little while later dazedly, with a grin and definitely late for his lesson. Hermione walked out unscathed not long after him and went in the opposite direction. She looked back smugly after him. Harry had no idea why she had wanted to snog so badly, and spontaneously, in a closet, but didn't exactly care.

Gryffindor had a Quidditch game two days succeeding Fudge's acquittal of his domain. It was going to take place in the morning, a little after breakfast. The lion Quidditch team were the first people at the table that dawn. Ron seemed to be a little distant from them all and appeared to be speaking under his breath at moments, while wearing a determined expression. In fact, he had been acting in this fashion for the last couple of days. Whenever no one had his attention, he'd lapse into that state. Harry asked him once if he was okay, and the redhead had replied in the affirmative though it did not convince his best friend. After the meal, there was half an hour before the match began. Harry, however, wanted his team in the locker room right away to prepare.

"Good luck Ronald," Luna wished as she went in the direction of her common room, "I'll be wearing a crown!"

"Uh, thanks Luna!" he replied as his teammates walked out of the castle and down the stone steps.

"Hey, Harry." Ron said as Harry turned to leave.

"Yeah?" he responded.

"I really need to talk to someone. I'll be about ten or fifteen minutes. Is that all right?"

"Er… sure, Ron." Harry cautiously confirmed.

"Thanks mate."

"Who is it?"

"Just… someone. I'll see you in a little while." Ron then turned around back into the Entrance Hall and set off. Harry frowned before resuming his progress to the locker room.

Ron found Hermione (predictably) on a sofa near the fireplace with texts and parchment spread out before her.

"Oh, hi Ron," she greeted, looking at him arrive, "I'm just getting some quick studying in before the game starts." Hermione then doubled back, as if only seeing him.

"Ron! Shouldn't you be with your team?" she cried.

"Harry said it was all right," he explained, sitting down, "Listen, Hermione… can I talk to you?"

"Of course. What about?"

"Well, it's kind of about Luna."

"Okay."  
"I like her and all, but I've got a… problem." Ron revealed.

"What is it?" questioned Hermione.

"I… I fancy another girl."

"Oh," she noted in a small voice, gazing at him caringly.

"That's kind of why I haven't asked Luna out yet or anything."

"Okay, well," Hermione began, shifting her position on the sofa, "Does this other witch know you like her?"

"I doubt it," he grinned sorrowfully, looking at her.

"Does she know _you_?"

"Yes."

"All right… so, how long have you been keen on her?"

"Longer than Luna, a lot longer," answered Ron, wringing his hands.

"Do you know her very well?" Hermione pondered.

"Quite well, actually."

"Well… as terrible as this sounds, maybe you need to ask yourself whom you like more."

"I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that," he remarked quietly, staring into the empty fireplace.

"Ron, if this other witch is standing in between you and Luna, and you think you may have stronger feelings for _her_, then maybe you should just tell her," she advised.

"That's the thing—I'm scared."

"I know it's scary Ron, but you'll never know how she feels if you don't say anything," Hermione said, earnestly placing a hand on his, "Isn't it killing you keeping it all in?"

"Yeah, it is…" Ron murmured, only fleetingly meeting her eyes. He pulled his hand from under hers and held it. Silence made its mark for a short while before he erased it:

"Can you do me a favor and not say anything about this to Harry? I… don't want to bother him with my little problems."

* * *

Harry walked grumpily into a vacant dungeon and caught sight of the Head Boy, which made him even more disgruntled. Dinner would begin in 45 minutes and Harry was meeting with Malfoy, for the second time, to continue the task of creating their potion. The blonde boy already had the jet black, with gold trimming, cauldron out and smoking from the small fire beneath it. (Malfoy had insisted on buying an entirely new cauldron just to brew their serum in; he claimed Harry's was tainted by stupidity).

"Do you have the mashed leeches Potter?" Malfoy roughly asked, slowing stirring the liquid and glaring at Harry.

"Yes," he snapped, bringing them out, "And the beetle eyes."

"Don't add them—I'll do it. You might put them in too quickly or too slowly and then mess up the whole concoction." Harry didn't take this gibe to heart. If Malfoy wanted to make the potion all by himself, he'd certainly have no objections. Harry moved to the furthest side of the table and began finishing their formal report.

"We need a name for it. Snape wants a name," he said.

"I told you, Malf—"

"No," Harry forcefully stated, not needing to hear the rest.

"Fine," shrugged Malfoy, throwing in white powder. It fizzled and turned a deep yellow. Harry started to pick his brain for a title. Well, it dealt with some of the five senses, more specifically by rendering them useless.

"What about… the Sixth Sense?" Harry said. Malfoy looked at him, an eyebrow raised, while starting to stir in the opposite direction.

"If that's the best you can come up with," he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. Harry ignored him and wrote the name down, knowing that was Malfoy's unique way of agreeing.

"How many more hours do you think it needs before its ready?" he inquired.

"We're probably going to have to come back to it twice more, for about two hours, to finish adding the ingredients. Other than that, we let it fester on its own so it can perfect itself, but we do have to check on it," the Head Boy remarked, his eyes on the mush (or three leeches) he was carefully adding. Harry was surprised by the absolute lack of malice in that answer. For the first time in his time at Hogwarts, he found himself wondering what Malfoy wanted to do once out of school. Draco Malfoy was bright, exceptionally bright; last year Hermione had told Ron Harry that according to Professor McGonagall, she was first in the class and Malfoy was second. (Padma Patil was third). Harry was sure the pureblood could get any career he desired.

"Um… what are we going to test it on?" Harry questioned, returning to writing.

"Well…," Malfoy thoughtfully began, "I was hoping it'd be you!"

Hermione laughed at something Harry had said as they exited the common room. A day had gone by since Harry's second meeting with Malfoy, and he was currently on his way to the Head Room with Hermione. They had a charm they needed to research and didn't quite feel like going to the library, where gangs of students were bound to be.

"That's horrible, Harry," she assured him, smiling.

"Yeah, maybe for the first year!" he grinned. He wanted to throw his arm around her waist and pull her closer.

"So how is it with Malfoy?" Harry snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Horrid. Don't make me relive any of it."

"At least you're halfway through it," she observed.

"Hey Harry, Hermione!" Ron called, smiling and walking right towards them.

"Hey Ron," greeted Harry, stopping.

"Did you just get out of class?" Hermione wondered.

"Yeah, Care with Hagrid. He wants to see you two, by the way. Says you haven't visited him in awhile." Ron answered. They looked at each other, smiling guiltily.

"So where are you going?" he inquired.

"Oh, um, the Head Room." Harry responded.

"Well cool—we can play chess there. You up for it Harry?"

"Er…" He looked at Ron, lost for words, then glanced at Hermione. Yes, they were going to the Head Room in order to get work done, but they still wanted to glorify in the fact that they were alone.

"Ron," Hermione prompted, coming to the rescue, "We're going to do work for Charms. I… I don't know how fun it'll be for you." She sounded apologetic.

"Oh," he said, studying them. There was uncomfortable silence in which they didn't meet one another's gaze.

"Right," sighed Ron, "See you at dinner then." He moved passed them without a second glance. Harry turned after him, mouth open for words to pour out, but closed it when he realized he couldn't say anything.

Malfoy barked the password to the portrait and walked irritably into the Head Room, books under his arm. He had received a letter from his mother during breakfast and it did not hold good news. It dealt with his father, and any time he heard information about Lucius Malfoy, it put him in a foul mood state. Draco's seemingly everlasting good mood upon hearing about Fudge's forsaking his throne had evaporated. (The Malfoys could not longer stand the bumbling fool; Fudge seemed to have forgotten all the family had done for the Ministry and where he priorities lied). Why did Lucius have to be at the Department of Mysteries that day? Why did he get caught and thrown in prison? It was all Potter's fault!

Malfoy silently growled, damning Harry. He still had yet to make the Boy Who Lived pay, but he had not forgotten about it. Malfoy threw his books on a couch and then heard voices. He straightened up, brow furrowed. There was a female voice, no doubt Granger's, and a male… _Potter_. They sounded as if they were on the second floor. Malfoy left the sitting area and quietly headed for the staircase. His initial instinct had been to noisily make himself and his anger known, but now he wanted to spy on the two _before_ doing that.

Malfoy stopped on the fourth step, crouching, and searched the floor. He saw them to more of his left, with Harry sitting on one of the two tables. He had his back to Malfoy, and Hermione stood right next to a bookshelf. The Head Boy lowered his head so as not to be seen by the Muggle born.

"I'm tired of doing this Hermione." Harry complained as she handed him a book.

"It hasn't even been 45 minutes!" she proclaimed, selecting a tome herself.

"I know, but I'm already sick of it. Can we take a break?" _Potter's work ethic is amazing_, Malfoy thought, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe when we've actually been researching for more than an hour!" Hermione said, her free hand on her hip. Harry made a sound of unwillingness.

"You are impossible!" she scoffed, smiling.

"Well, I suppose I _could _get back to working…" he pointed out, taking the book from her.

"If?" she wondered, eyeing him. Harry got off the table and stood in front of her.

"If…" he said, moving her hair from her shoulder.

"No Harry."

"Hey, _you _made me late for my class a few days ago. You owe me." Harry then caught Hermione around the middle and began happily, and expertly, kissing her. She shut her eyes and kissed him back with just as much gusto, arms circling around his neck. Draco Malfoy's mouth flew open and his grey eyes narrowed. He _knew _it!

Moving back down the stairs with the silent agility and determined will of a cat, Malfoy held his breath. He grabbed his books off the couch and stood in front on the entrance, praying for it to open faster. When it did, he flew out of the Head Room at neck breaking speed, zipping by students he was in danger of hitting. He was stunned, to say the least.

He was forced to feign off all of the Slytherins in the common room, who, like usual, wanted his attention. Normally he would have indulged them, and indulged himself with female attention, but he currently craved none of it. Back in his room, Malfoy sat on his green bed with a hand covering his mouth. Thankfully none of his roommates were present to question his behavior; Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott were all together. Malfoy stared ahead another minute before removing his hand from his face and giving a low, hearty laugh. His eyes began to glint madly with an ominous glee as he stood up, still laughing.

Finally, after so long: merciful, merciful vengeance. Draco had found a way to make Potter suffer at long last. _What is the chance that Weasley, or anyone else for that matter, is completely oblivious to Potter and Granger?_, the cunningly pondered, smirking. But he'd have to go about this carefully, and tastefully. Malfoy didn't want to announce to the whole school that he had a revelation regarding Harry Potter. No, he wanted to work like an acid, starting from the inside out. This was why he desired to speak exclusively with Ron first, hoping (and knowing) this method would have the best ripple effect.

Malfoy also knew he couldn't approach the Weasel until his potion with Potty had been turned in. if he blabbered too soon, Harry was guaranteed to not finish the assignment, too preoccupied with his newly founded shattered life. Malfoy _still _had his grades to think about, right? It did not matter however, the insignificant wait. He was perceptive, _and _patient. _Just so long as he's miserable in the end_.

"Finally!" the Head Boy murmured, clenching his fist in satisfaction.

* * *

A/N: Right. So, I need to explain something. This chapter, 25, was cut in half. I was writing, realized I still had a lot to add to it, and realized it was already long enough to be its own chapter. So, I cut it in half. Chapter 26 is one of the most pivotal chapters in this story. If it's all little short, that's all right 'cause I sort of want all that information by itself… let it sink in! Also, I'll post again much sooner next week, probably on Tuesday. I noticed it's been a tad while since I've posted. Kay. S'all. Never be normal! 


	26. You and My Best Friend

A/N: Well, here it is, the 26th chapter. I know I said I'd post around Tuesday, but hey, my life sucks and I got food poisoning on Saturday night. (Stupid bastards at Del Taco! I'm never eating there again)! I'm just about over it. Dude, it really threw me through a loop. I couldn't eat or write anything! It was nothing short of torture, I assure you.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 26

The dark March sky glittered with the millions of burning, bodies of gas. The moon was in its first quarter and covered by only a few, thin clouds. On the pinnacle of the Astronomy Tower laid a boy and girl, with she being on top of him. They had been enjoying the night and each other's company for at least an hour.

"We're well past curfew, aren't we?" Harry asked, one arm thrown across her back.

"It's not _that _late!" Hermione replied, not sounding too sure of herself.

"We can go back if you want."

"No. I like it up here, with you…" she answered quietly, looking down at him adoringly.

"Good," he smiled, looking into her brown eyes. He gave her a small kiss.

"Are you rid of Malfoy yet?" Hermione questioned, putting her chin on her arm (that rested on his chest).

"Tomorrow! It's our last time. We see if the final product works by testing it on a spider."

"The potion itself sounds extremely cruel."

"Yeah…," Harry vaguely responded, "You know, Malfoy's been acting weird lately. He's much quieter, and he hasn't had a go at me in awhile."

"Yes, I've noticed it as well. But you should savor it while it lasts."

"Yeah…," he noted, his left hand holding his head. He gazed at her intently, eyes sweeping over every aspect of her face. She stared back, though mainly in his captivating eyes. God, they were so _gorgeous_.

"I love your hair," mumbled Hermione, running a hand through it.

"My hair?" Harry repeated, grinning.

"Yes," she smiled.

"Why? I can't stand it!"

"Honestly!"

"Yes. It _never _lies flat, and no matter what I do to improve it, it always looks the same. The only thing it does successfully is get messier!" he explained.

"But that's what makes it so… _endearing_! I think it's adorable." Hermione commented fondly.

"Well, you can have it."

"I'd rather have the entire package."

"Ah, but you have that." Harry smiled.

"I know," she giggled. They went through a third interval of silence in which they stared at each other again, but this time the stillness was broken by a kiss and not speech.

Their first kiss was slow and full of gentleness. Hermione took Harry's face in her hands as his loose right arm tightened. (He placed his left hand on her hip). They began to kiss a little more firmly, as if their need to be close had intensified. Hermione detached herself after a few minutes for air, the separation not pleasing Harry, before going back in. she caught his lower lip in her mouth and pulled back a bit, teasingly. He growled softly and she smiled.

"Not fair," he told her. She commenced kissing him properly once more. Just as their kisses were becoming more impassioned, but not yet at the rate of snog kisses, Hermione slipped her tongue inside Harry's mouth. He groaned loudly as his hand moved further down her leg and his arm constricted across her back. Their tongues interacted wholeheartedly with one another while their owners seemed to be in their individual blissful worlds. If the air was cold or uncomfortable in any way, neither Gryffindor noticed.

Too absorbed in what they were doing, Harry didn't notice that his right hand had disappeared in Hermione's hair. He did, on the other hand, have this sudden, insane urge to be on top of her. Falling at its mercy, he vigilantly, but swiftly, turned over so that she was beneath him. Hermione did not seem to mind this, but was disrupted by their lips (and tongues) coming apart. Moaning, she grabbed Harry's face once more and reinitiated their kissing. Things were escalating, which meant things were also speeding up. Their breathing was becoming irregular and their heart rates had definitely accelerated. Harry had entirely forgotten about his left hand, but if he would have truly wanted to think about it, he would have realized it was following the dangerous path his sub-conscience mind had already taken.

Hermione felt a jolt travel down her spine as an unknown force moved somewhere on her body with a steady tenacity. It was nearing a sensitive area, perhaps even a seemingly forbidden area, and caused her to moan clamorously. It wasn't until Harry started kissing her ear that she registered it was his hand.

"H-Harry!" she gasped, short of air.

"What?" he whispered in her ear. That caused her eyes to involuntarily close and another shiver to run down her spine.

"You… we…" she weakly started.

"What?"

"I… I t-think we're going too far." Harry tore his eyes away from her face and peered down at their bodies. His right hand hovered near one of her breasts, but that wasn't what had caught Hermione's attention. It was the fact that his left hand had pushed her skirt up by a small margin and was currently underneath it. Turning beet red, Harry rapidly removed his hand and got off of her. Embarrassment filled every fiber in his body as he sat there, staring fixedly at the blanket she had conjured. Hermione sat up as well, fixing her skirt and pushing her hair behind her ears. She stole a glance from him—he looked mortified.

"God, Hermione… I-I'm sorry." Harry awkwardly apologized, continuing not to look at her.

"It's all right," she answered softly, hugging her knees. They didn't vocalize another sound for five minutes as they merely sat there. She would glance at him, but he didn't have the heart to do so in return.

"We should probably go back," he muttered. Harry stood up and offered her a hand, all without meeting her eyes. Hermione accepted it as he magically disposed of the blanket with the other. The two then began their journey back to Gryffindor Tower under the Cloak, apparently to only stay in perpetual silence. Harry had _still_ not looked at her and it was starting to make Hermione feel badly.

She looked at him. His face was troubled, and shame & confusion were clearly visible. Not able to bear it any longer, Hermione took his right hand in her left. At long last, Harry turned his gaze on her face. She gave him an encouraging smile, wanting him to stop beating himself up over what had happened up there. She didn't blame Harry for what he had done, or almost done; their snog had, basically, gotten much too heated before either one realized what was occurring. What was more, Hermione knew he would never hurt her or try anything without her consent.

No, Harry had a large, strict conscience, which was why he was so shaken by his actions at the moment. What Hermione was having problems with was _herself_, her own feelings. Yes, she had ceased what they had been doing, in order to keep them from possibly shagging on the Astronomy Tower, but it had been halted much more out of fear. Hermione feared how wonderful Harry made her feel when he simply touched her, she feared how much she lost herself when he did so… she feared that one day she would lose absolute control of the situation. _Because he's Harry_. No, because he meant the world to her and she was often blindsided by this fact; only Harry had this invisible power that bound her. _You've never met anyone else who makes you feel this way—no one, _she thought. All right… maybe it _was _because he was Harry.

They reached the Fat Lady. Before the password was spoken, Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"It's okay Harry," she promised, still gripping his hand.

"It doesn't feel that way," Harry countered, looking at her with imploring eyes, "I… I was… I didn't think—"

"Harry, I'm all right, honestly. I'm not angry with you and I don't think badly of you. Just… forget about it."

"Yeah… yeah, I'll try."

"Good," she said, kissing his cheek once more. They had hardly talked about it, and anyone eavesdropping would have been hopelessly bewildered, but they knew one another's thoughts regarding the topic. From then on it was buried and not mulled over… at least, not out loud.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat in the Slytherin common room, effortlessly completing his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. His last class of the day, Potions, had ended about an hour ago. He and Harry had finally turned in their ice blue, tasteless potion. Snape had interrogated them on it, with the harder questions directed at Harry, but both boys had answered his inquiries well. Snape seemed satisfied with the Sixth Sense and congratulated Malfoy on a job well done, conveniently forgetting Harry's equal hand in the serum. (Harry didn't care, so long as Snape conveniently _remembered _when he marked down a grade). 

Malfoy dipped his quill in the inkbottle and stifled a yawn, starting to write in his neat, confined script. So, he was now free to approach Weasley…. A smirk appeared on his face as Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle walked over to his empty table. Blaise was smiling.

"What's funny?" Malfoy wondered, asking the question out of obligation rather than fascination.

"Crabbe broke a first year's wand for accidentally stepping on his shoe," he reported. Crabbe and Goyle laughed. The Head Boy didn't reply, not amused by their childish antics at the moment. Pansy Parkinson suddenly came ambling into the common room, looking hot and bothered. She let out a short scream, causing everyone to look at her. Malfoy did everything in his power to not roll his eyes; he was not in the mood for her inevitable drama either.

"What happened now? Another bloke blew her off after she shagged him?" joked Zabini, chuckling and looking at Malfoy. _You're one to talk_, Malfoy thought, _You've yourself called on Pansy for her services_. Pansy stomped over to the boys, glaring at anyone in her field of view.

"I hate Granger!" she shouted.

"Is that all?" Malfoy asked, folding his arms.

"That… _wench_, gave me detention and took 20 points from Slytherin!"

"What happened?" Blaise pondered. Pansy huffed, hands on her hips.

"A third year Hufflepuff refused to get out of my way, so I put a Full Body-Bind on him!" (She left out the part that she hadn't asked the boy to move and that she'd attacked him from behind).

"That's not very prefect like," grinned Blaise.

"I _loathe _her, Draco," she ranted, "Who does she think she is! She thinks just because she's Head Girl, she can do anything! She had _no _right to that position in the first place! I want revenge, for everything she's ever done to me!"

"Don't worry Pansy; _Granger _will get hers very soon, that I can promise you," smiled Malfoy, leaning forward. The other four looked at one another, intrigued, and then back at Malfoy. Goyle, who felt differently for Hermione ever since she saved him from the dementor, had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you have planned?" wondered Zabini, lowering his voice.

Ron went back to his solitary state, but this time he seemed to pull farther into it. He appeared concentrated half of the time, but the other half he came off as dejected. Now, as opposed to then, he was by himself much more. Harry felt glum and resolved to try to bring the old Ron back, especially after an upset Ginny came to him asking what was wrong with her brother. After all, he felt as if he was to blame for Ron's behavior.

"You're not going to eat Harry?" Hermione asked at lunch. He sat with a full plate in front of him and stared straight ahead. He had a fistful of hair in his left hand.

"No," he mumbled.

"You're not hungry?"

"No."

"You're thinking about Ron, aren't you?" she quietly wondered.

"Yes." Harry sighed.

"Have you talked to him?"

"I tried! He told me he was 'just fine', or rather muttered it to me! Besides that, we haven't really talked for about a week. Something's changed and I hate it." Hermione looked about the table despairingly and exhaled as he ceased slouching.

"I'll talk to him, before he goes on his rounds," she reported, staring at the entrance—Ron was walking in. Harry waved at his best friend, flagging him down. (He might not have sat with them otherwise).

"You weren't in the room so I couldn't invite you with us," Harry started, when the redhead was seated, "I thought you'd want to get here early, since you missed breakfast and everything."

"Yeah, I was… someplace else." Ron said, clearly not elaborating on the issue. Harry nodded stupidly, thinking of something else to say. _Why are you avoiding us like the plague? What is _wrong!

"Uh, I was going to study later in the library for Defense. Do you want to come? We could go to the kitchens after that and see Dobby," he offered up.

"I have… rounds."

"So we'll do it before then." Both Harry and Hermione were gazing at him.

"Er… I dunno Harry. I'm, busy, almost all day. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?" Ron commented, eyeing the noodles he was spinning with his fork.

"Yeah." Harry murmured unenthusiastically, slouching back down again. Hermione bit her lip and stared down at her hands, sadly pondering what was happening. Ron briefly closed his eyes, ignoring the torrent of emotions coming on.

* * *

Ron passed a portrait of three unicorns sitting lazily in a grassy field, their tails flicking occasionally. 

"Hermione, we…," he mumbled under his breath, "No. Hermione… I—" He adjusted the book in his hand, brow furrowed.

"So, we're not eleven anymore," he tried again, "Ah, no! Um… hey, remember the Yule Ball?" Ron let out a quiet growl and temporarily gave up. He thought about Hermione instead. Soon enough, however, Harry inescapably made his way into the picture, and then the thought of all the time they spent together followed. Ron clenched his teeth in frustration. In truth, he couldn't stand any of it: his feelings for Hermione, her bond with Harry, why that bond bothered him, and why he felt isolated as of late. Their friendship had never been so complicated, and Ron longed for those earlier years of simplicity.

"Hi Ron!" a third year happily greeted, walking by him.

"Hey, Euan…" he responded.

"Ah, Weasley—king to the little people," someone smartly noted from behind. Ron stopped and turned around. A particular blonde Slytherin was in back of him, smirking.

"Going to class Weasley?" he asked.

"Yes, so bugger off Malfoy." Ron threatened, resuming his walk.

"Going off to fail, then." Malfoy remarked. Ron didn't reply and hurried his pace. The Head Boy followed, saying:

"Hold on there Weasel—I need to talk to you."

"Are you serious," Ron indecorously wondered, facing him, "About what!"

"Something that will definitely interest you," he replied with a small grin. Ron's anger left his face and was replaced by minor puzzlement. Malfoy began walking and this time, Ron had to stay in step.

"It's about Potter and Granger."

"What could you possibly know that I don't?" snorted the Weasley boy.

"Plenty," the blonde assured, hitting Ron in the chest with a hand. He scowled in jealousy, outrage, and trepidation. Malfoy didn't know anything! He was bluffing… right?

"I don't know _why _I'm going to tell you this… why should I care? Maybe it's because you're a fellow pureblood…" Malfoy said.

"Yeah right," grumbled Ron. The Head Boy smiled. Perhaps the Weasel _wasn't _a complete idiot.

"So… is Granger going out with anyone?" he pondered, diving in.

"No."

"Is Potty?"

"No, _Harry _is not."

"Hmm…. Are you certain?" Malfoy asked, scratching his chin.

"Yes," Ron snapped, thoroughly annoyed, "Malfoy, what does _any _of this—"

"They're lying," he boldly stated. Ron became immobile.

"W-What?" he wondered, staring at the Slytherin.

"Your so-called friends are lying to you," Malfoy quietly revealed.

"N-No. T-They would've said—"

"In fact, _they're _a couple—Potter and Granger." The world seemed to lose sound. The chatter of the students around them, along with the noise of their shoes clicking against the floor, died away. Ron's head began to spin out of control. No, no… this was Malfoy… _he _was the one lying. It _couldn't _be true!

"Yes Weasley," Malfoy said, solely breaking through the sound barrier, "Your _good _friends have been sneaking around your back, and not even I know for how long. But I saw them recently, in the Head Room."

"_We can play chess there. You up for it Harry?"_

"_We're going to do work for Charms. I… I don't know how fun it'll be for you."_

"Haven't you ever noticed that they're always gone? Together? Put two and two together—it's because they want to be alone. They've been doing it for awhile and you know it."

_"I can't go flying, Ron—Hermione's going to help me with my Potions homework in the library."_

"I suppose they didn't want anyone to know for some reason, but to not tell _you_? Above anyone else? That's low Weasley, wouldn't you agree?"

"_Yeah, you're the only one without a girlfriend Ron."_

"I'd consider new friends if I were you... Are you going to confront them about this?"

_"Sure you're two mates haven't abandoned you , Weasley? Haven't seen you around Harry and Hermione for awhile."_

_"__Sod off Seamus! Things are fine."_

"They were really going at it. I don't believe I've ever seen someone's tongue that far down another person's throat." All of the noise of the castle came rushing back to Ron and it hit him like a ton of bricks, with that last statement being the most crippling blow.

"Liar!" Ron snarled viciously. Malfoy stepped back in spite of himself, utterly taken aback. Ron then stormed off in his original direction, leaving Malfoy with a taste of just how strong the redhead actually was.

Ron wanted to disregard everything that had come out of the Head Boy's mouth and write it off as nonsense. He tried that, tried it desperately, but it didn't work. After his conversation with Malfoy, he completely shut everyone out and kept to himself, thinking. Ron recalled upon images of his best friends and noted differences between them; he watched their persons as well, but would not talk to them. It was nerve wrecking, and he felt like he was going out of his head.

Why should he listen to Malfoy? Why! Logic told him not to, but all the ferret had said rang true for Ron. So where did that leave him? _Just… confirm Malfoy's wrong_, he rationalized one evening, staring blankly into the bare hearth. _How? _Ron suddenly felt someone's presence linger near him. He didn't turn his head but saw, out of the corner of his eye, that it was Hermione. She opened her mouth, and after a graceless moment, mouthed his name. (He had heard her tell Parvati and Lavender she was going to the Head Room not too long ago). Ron didn't move. She then shook her head as if only realizing something and hurried off.

How? That was the question, wasn't it? _You could check the Marauder's Map_, a voice breezily suggested. No, no—that was Harry's property…. _So? He told you you're free to use it whenever… it's just sitting in his trunk_. Yes, spying on your best friends—that's quite low, isn't it?

_That's low Weasley, wouldn't you agree?_

Ron stood up and then left the common room, not hearing Ginny's call of his name. He would squash that suggestion right now and prove it was stupid: he would go check the map right now. Why not? At the moment, Harry was supposedly in the library. Ron walked into his empty room and instantly saw Harry's trunk. He wiped his palms on his robes, looking at it. _This isn't an invasion of privacy, right? _No, of course not.

_Put two and two together—it's because they want to be alone._

Harry's trunk was open and the map was in Ron's hands. This didn't mean anything; he was simply verifying the fact that Malfoy was a twisted fool. _They wouldn't do that to me. We're best mates_,Ron thought.

_You're _good _friends have been sneaking around your back…_

"I-I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Print and figures began to appear on the parchment, but he didn't really take any of it in. _Harry wouldn't… wouldn't be with Hermione: he knows I fancy her_. Ron's eyes searched the paper frantically. Bethany King, Dean Thomas… Argus Filch… David Rice, Terry Boot… Severus Snape…

_Haven't you ever noticed that they're always gone? _Together?

There. In a classroom, on the fourth floor. Two dots, right next to each other: _Harry Potter _and _Hermione Granger_.

_I don't believe I've ever seen someone's tongue that far down another person's throat._

The map fluttered to the floor.

"Mischief managed," a voice croaked. Well, so much for the library.

* * *

Ron did not eat breakfast the next morning. In fact, Harry hadn't seen him at all in the morning, or the previous night. 

"I'm really starting to worry Harry." Hermione confided.

"That makes two of us," he replied. In Transfiguration, Ron was present but chose to ignore Harry & Hermione, and sit with Justin Finch-Fletchley. When the class ended he was the first person out of the door, not having spoken a word (albeit to perform a spell). Harry and Hermione made no attempt to follow him, knowing it'd be inane, but thought something _had _to be done, and soon.

"I know it was a few days back, but how did your potion go?" she asked as they leisurely walked the halls, trying for a lighter subject.

"Good. Snape approved of it. Malfoy started blabbing on about getting a patent for it and selling it in the wizarding world. I told him he could do whatever he wants with it, and that includes swallowing it." Harry responded.

"Speak of the devil," she mumbled. The Head Boy and his group of Slytherins were leaning casually against a wall further up the corridor.

"Potter, Granger," Malfoy smiled, "Don't want to be late for class now, do you?" The others sniggered.

"Doesn't the routine get old, Malfoy?" wondered Hermione. He made to answer but, his eyes fell on something behind them, along with numerous other pairs. A younger student cried out and Harry turned around, second to Hermione. A Ravenclaw girl stood holding her foot and glaring at an approaching Ron, who looked fit to kill. He appeared _enraged _about something, and was clutching his wand.

"Ron, what—" started Harry, concerned. But he was cut off by Ron's own voice bellowing:

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry flew off his feet, completely caught off guard. Hermione screamed, as did a few others, and the students around them scrambled out of the way but stayed put, intent on seeing the fight.

"Ron!" she yelled, near tears looking to Harry. Ron overlooked her and moved towards Harry, who was back on his feet. He was angry and alarmed.

"What the hell!" he demanded. Ron was staring daggers at him.

"_Rictusempra_!" he shouted. Harry ducked his head. By the time he recovered, Ron fired another spell.

"_Impedimenta_!" Harry was now pissed off and thinking clearly. He put up a shield just as the incantation bounced off it. Malfoy was a safe distance away with his friends and looked sadistically full of contorted joy.

"_Petrificus totalus_!" Harry cried. Ron moved quickly to the side, Harry never leaving his gaze. (The DA was coming in handy at the moment). He tried again:

"_Impedimenta_!" Harry's shield flew up once more. Oh, the spells he had learned over the months from his training were flying through his brain, but they were too cruel to use on Ron, even if he _had _lost his mind.

"_Aduro_!" Harry commanded. Ron let out an aggravated cry as his wand hand was burned, causing him to drop his tool.

"_Accio _wand," Harry said. Ron's wand flew to him, "What in _God's _name is your problem!"

"You fucking bastard." Ron remarked savagely, glaring at his best friend. There was a collective gasp. Harry blinked several times and gaped at him.

"Ron, what are you—" Hermione sobbed, taking a muddled step forward.

"Don't _you_ come near me," he snapped. She looked as though she had been slapped. He turned back to Harry. Suddenly three professors came rushing forward, appearing shocked. McGonagall, one of them, had seen most of the exchange.

"Misters Potter and _Weasley_!" she shrieked.

"You've been going out with Hermione behind my back." Ron steely stated. Harry paled and Hermione had the wind knocked out of her. There was a louder gasp, full of unadulterated shock; even the teachers were stunned still.

"That's right," laughed Ron, "I found out very recently. How long has it been going on? How long have you two been lying to me?" He looked at his friends. Hermione had a hand to her mouth and was on the verge of crying, while Harry looked broken.

"How long," he repeated forcefully, "No, wait. Just tell me it isn't true. Tell me you're _not _dating," he pleaded.

"R-Ron." Harry tried, his voice extremely hoarse.

"Tell me!" Ron shouted, radiating fury and sadness. Hermione shut her eyes and let the tears fall. He stared at her through the neck hair standing silence.

"So it's true then," he quietly said, "You two, this whole time… my two best friends? Harry, you… you and Hermione… Hermione… even though you _knew _that I…" Harry closed his eyes and prayed this was all a frightening, frightening dream.

"All right… fine," Ron hollowly mentioned, "I don't want _anything _to do with _either _of you, again. Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't _think _about me! I'm through with you, through with this apparent friendship! It obviously was a joke because you had no problem ruining it, and making me look, and feel, like an idiot!" He went over to Harry and snatched his wand. Everyone tensed, and their eyes locked. Harry's displayed dull sorrow, and Ron's, vicious betrayal.

"I'm serious—do not speak to me. You left me alone before so you can leave me alone now." He moved back.

"If you two want each other so damn much, then you can _have _each other," spat Ron bitterly, looking more so at Hermione. She looked back, heartbroken, her whole body shaking from her cries. Ron made to leave as the student spectators commenced whispering recklessly. Professor McGonagall, having her bearings once more, swooped in yelling and demanding order, just as a friendship of seven years fell apart.

* * *

A/N: Good God Almighty. Do you see? Do you see how long chapter 25 would have been if I had left _all of this_ in it! Anyway, that's chapter 26. I finally got to that ending scene. It was festering in my head when I first started this fic; I shaped the story around it, in truth… kinda. I have a few things I need to say: 

I cannot write out Harry's training sessions because I am not that creative, lol. I'd have to think up many spells for him to use, and they'd have to be from my head, and I'm not in the mood to sit there and make up incantations. So, sorry. I'm not JK Rowling; it's difficult devising spells!

The scene I kept delaying is the Astronomy Tower one right in the beginning of this chapter.

This is the most important of all: I am going to take a little break. I need to contemplate and write out the rest of the story (I'm hoping for 9 or 10 more chapters). I have a basic idea of what I want to happen, and I have a lot of specific… _things_, I know I'm incorporating in the story, I just have to actually sit down and write it all out. So, yeah, I'm taking a break. I'll definitely post again by the last week of March; by then, I should have most of **Lock and Key** done. I don't want to stop, and hate leaving the story where I am, but I have to!

Thanks to my faithful readers. You guys rock so hard you're in danger of being heavy metal. See you in a few weeks!


	27. Regrets

A/N: VOW! After a century, I have posted again:Inhales: It feels marvelous! I missed writing, but I really needed that break. (I only hope I haven't lost anyone b/c of the wait, lol). So, dude, my God—I got quite a few new reviewers. Thank you! I was pleased. **HermioneGirl03 (again), PrincessLuckyCML, Clueless Bystander, Dreamsong, Ken, KirstiR, Elle, and Nicole: **you people kick arse. I don't have too much left in the story, but this part of it (the ending) will be fun to write, and hopefully read. So… after a month… here is the next chapter, finally.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 27

Ron was taken straight to Dumbledore's office, led by a hysterical Minerva McGonagall. He walked the entire way with a stone-like expression, either not hearing the Transfiguration teacher's rant or not caring. Harry was taken into Flitwick's office by the distraught Flitwick himself, and questioned, while Hermione stayed behind with Malfoy and Melbrooks to send onlookers on their way. She shook and sobbed the whole while until the Muggle Studies professor took pity and let her take her leave. (The Head Boy watched her go with morbid fascination and pleasure).

The headmaster looked positively solemn after McGonagall recounted the tale, she feeling as if the ordeal was tragic enough to actually summon tears from her eyes. Dumbledore asked Ron what had occurred, daring to believe, and hope, he had not attacked his best friend and that the trio's bond would not break. The redhead gave the exact same testimony as his professor had, confessing to everything, but with additional tidbits and a hollow voice.

"After what they did to me… after they _betrayed _me, I-I don't see our friendship as existent anymore."

It was with a heavy heart that Dumbledore gave Ron a month's worth of detention and inquired if he would need alternative living arrangements. Ron answered in the negative, thinking there'd be no problem since he was planning to refuse to acknowledge anyone named Harry Potter. It was with a heavier heart that Dumbledore stripped Ron of his prefect's badge and informed him that a letter to his parents might be in order. But it was with the heaviest heart of all that Dumbledore sent Ron out of his office knowing that something so wonderful, and necessary in Harry's life, had just been lost.

McGonagall hurried over to Flitwick's office after her meeting with the headmaster and Ron, hoping the Charms teacher was still talking to Harry. He indeed was, but did not appear to be getting very far. They both asked Harry questions, for his side of the story, but got limited, short answers. He was no doubt distracted; his mournful staring at the wall proved this. They eventually and reluctantly let him go, with McGonagall sadly telling him that Dumbledore might call on him at some point. She wanted to offer him more comfort, to say anything that would erase that depressing look on his face, but she unwillingly recognized this was none of her business.

McGonagall originally intended to ostracize the Head Boy and Girl for letting the confrontation between Harry and Ron escalate, but when she saw Hermione's face ripe with agony, she could not do it. Hermione immediately went to her dormitory after Melbrooks' dismissal, bypassing inquisitive students, and threw herself onto her bed, crying. She did not attend her afternoon class(es), and neither did the boys. Instead, she wept sporadically on her four poster with the hangings drawn. She skipped dinner and would not answer to her roommates concerned attempts to draw her out. Hermione wouldn't have moved from her bed or miserable disposition for anyone. She had no desire to see, speak to, or hear anyone, and that included Harry; she merely wanted to be disconsolate.

Harry seemed to take the same route as his girlfriend after his fight: solitude. He, however, took refuge in the Owlery, despite the rancid smells. (He felt it was better than being in his room, and the stench was the last thing on his mind). He pitifully held his head in his hands for most of the time as his thoughts raced. Ron… Ron knew, knew about him and Hermione… and he was wounded. _This _is _all my fault, _Harry sadly thought, _I could've prevented this. I want to take it all back—I'd give anything to take it all back. Anything. If I had to face Voldemort tomorrow, I'd do it… just to get Ron back. I've lost my best friend…._

It was stiff that night in the dormitory of the seventh year Gryffindor boys. Harry arrived for bed before Ron, and Dean, Neville, and Seamus threw him anxious glances. They clearly wanted to speak to him, but he would not acknowledge them. Ron walked in while Harry was in the bathroom and saw the other three. (He had been in his own isolation throughout the day as well). Seamus opened his mouth but the redhead quickly cut him off.

"Forget it." Harry came out as Ron was removing his shoes and Neville was talking quietly to Dean. They stared at each other briefly as it became absolutely still. Ron broke the connection by shoving his sneakers under his bed, appearing indifferent; Harry continued his path to the bed. As he began to close the drapes, he saw Ron walk into the bathroom and slam the door shut. His last sight was that of the others' sympathetic gaze.

Both Harry and Hermione did not show up for breakfast the next morning. Ron did, on the other hand, and ate alone—he would not even recognize his sister. He stared at his plate for most of the meal trapped in his rampant thoughts and oblivious to the other wizards in the Great Hall. His assault on Harry had zipped through the school like wildfire, becoming the fastest spread piece of information to ever hit Hogwarts. (It beat out the news that Lily Evans had agreed to go out with James Potter). Now, every person in the castle knew that Ron Weasley had dueled Harry Potter and that Harry Potter had been secretly going out with Hermione Granger.

An eagle owl landed in front of Ron at some point and brought him out of his trance. He accepted it, not exactly caring what it was, and instantly knew who the sender was:

_I told you. I told you the truth about Potter and Granger. I also told you that you'd pay. Remember Weasley? When you insulted my father, in front of everyone at the beginning of the school year? Let's call this your payback. Revenge is sweet. Cheers._

Ron's face contorted with anger. He rummaged in his robes for a quill, managed to miraculously find one, and wrote Malfoy a threatening response:

_If you ever speak to me again, I'll make sure they find your irreversible, hexed body in Snape's office._

He shot up from the Gryffindor table and stormed over to the Slytherins' end of the room. (About half of the eyes present were on him, the boy whom had attacked his best friend). Ron threw the parchment, and a hateful look, at the blonde before exiting the Great Hall. Malfoy read it then crumbled it in a ball, his cheeks tinting with embarrassment and resentment.

Ron left the castle and sat on the stone steps, his head resting on his right arm. For the second time since the previous day, he felt like crying. All of this seemed to be some ghastly nightmare from which he couldn't escape. And the worse part was it was just beginning. _How could they? I feel so… alone. I can't deal with this. If I see them together, I'll… I'll j-just lose it, I know._

"Ron," a soft voice said. He straightened up, not even realizing someone had been approaching. He turned around only to see Ginny. She looked confused and upset.

"Please Ron," she started, "You'll talk to me, won't you? It's that… I'm worried about you, a-and lost. It what everyone is saying true? About Harry and Hermione? I haven't seen them…. What's going on?" Ron returned to his original position, gazing out towards Hagrid's hut.

"Sit down then. You may be as shocked as I was," he throatily instructed.

* * *

Harry's stomach forced him down to lunch, though he went as early as possible so as to avoid people. He had gone to class earlier but chose to sit in the very back of the room, not make eye contact with anyone, and remain mute. (He had seen neither Ron nor Hermione more than once, and certainly had not spoken to them). In Potions Harry received a greeting from Draco Malfoy. The Head Boy passed by his table where he sat alone, on his way to the bathroom (something which Harry would have never been allowed), and craftily flung the note at him: 

_Having a good day Potter? It's a shame what happened between you and Weasley yesterday isn't it? Were you really dating Granger and not telling him? Perhaps I shouldn't have tipped him off…. Oh yes, that's right—I told Weasel. It's my gift to you for putting my father in Azkaban. I never forget, Potter._

There was no forewarning of the sudden fury that shot through Harry's veins. Small, white dots flew across his vision before he jumped out of his seat. Malfoy had done this.

"Potter," Snape barked, "What are you doing!" Harry ran out of the dungeon, determined to catch up to the Head Boy. He ignored the professor's yells of protest and hurried up the corridor. Knowing the pompous little bastard, he would be taking his precious time to get to the bathroom, if he even planned on truly going there.

Sure enough, Harry found Malfoy strolling nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets, not too far from the classroom. He turned at the sound of Harry's feet and Harry drew his wand.

"_Densaugeo! Furnunculus_!" he commanded furiously. Malfoy had no time to retaliate. His right hand began swelling gigantically and numerous boils sprouted on his face. He shouted out frantically.

"_Mutis_!" Harry added venomously. Snape, and the rest of the Potions class, arrived as Malfoy became an alarming deep blue.

"Potter," the professor shouted incredulously. He pointed his own wand at the blonde, "_Desino_!" Malfoy's hand stopped growing, as did the number of sores on his face. He looked ready to faint.

"Mr. Malfoy, hospital wing," Snape ordered. The colored Slytherin raced off, dragging his enormous hand with him amidst a few snickers. Snape turned on Harry, infuriated, "_You_. The headmaster's office, _now_," he hissed. Harry, whose face displayed nothing but contempt, walked off without so much as a word. He was no doubt about to pay for what he had just done, but it currently did not bother him. Hexing Malfoy had been worthwhile and he definitely would have continued had not Snape intervened.

"The rest of you return to the classroom immediately!" the teacher snapped.

Harry had to wait outside Dumbledore's office a few minutes before he was allowed to enter. He cooled down during that time, seriously considering the situation. Yes Malfoy had told Ron, but he had only done what Harry had been deathly afraid to do. His intention may have been spiteful, but he had laid it out on the table. _At least someone had the courage to_, Harry noted,… _but I still hate Malfoy, probably even more so_.

"Harry," the old man greeted as his door opened. The Boy Who Lived got up from leaning against the wall and walked in, glancing at Dumbledore: he appeared grave.

"I just talked with Severus," the professor remarked, once seated. Harry guessed it had been through the Floo Network but bothered not to ask. There was silence as the two stared at one another. Was Dumbledore expecting him to speak first or something?

"Yeah, I cursed Malfoy," Harry confessed, shifting in his seat. The head of the school sighed.

"And why, precisely?" Harry took Malfoy's parchment from his pocket and handed it to the other wizard.

"I snapped when I read it," he mumbled, arms crossed.

"Did you show this to Professor Snape?" Dumbledore wondered, when finished.

"No, and I won't."

"Very well, Harry. I know Mr. Malfoy's actions were abominable, but they do not warrant yours for physically attacking him," Harry said nothing, "You will have detention for two weeks with Professor Snape. And, I am afraid to report, he insists that if you have one more… _mishap_, in his classroom, he will remove you from his Potions course." The Gryffindor's eyes met Dumbledore's. Somehow, he felt torn about that threat.

"Harry," the headmaster commenced, his voice taking on a grandfatherly tone, "Moving on to why you jinxed Mr. Malfoy in the first place… you current predicament—"

"I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"No. Mr. Weasley admitted to initiating the whole affair."

"Then sir," Harry began, closing his eyes, "I am really not in the mood to talk or hear about that. And forgive me for saying this, but, it's not exactly your business." He opened his eyes to see Dumbledore solemnly nodding his head, fingers together. He looked a tad defeated.

"Indeed, you are correct Harry," he admitted, "If you do not wish to discuss it, I cannot fault or force you." Harry averted his gaze to the carpet and was quiet for a moment.

"Besides, it's not like I can fix it," he murmured. Dumbledore looked at him pityingly.

"Simply know that all things grow better with time," he advised. In this case, I doubt that, the boy thought.

"Am I free to go?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. I will look the other way if you decide to not return to Potions."

Gryffindor had Quidditch practice that night, but Harry had resolved on not having it. No, he had not officially announced that to his teammates (for he had not spoken to them at all), but he figured that they'd figure out he was in no frame of mind to play Quidditch. What was more, _Ron_ was on the team…. Harry did not show up to dinner since the idea of all those gaping people gave him a headache. Instead, he went directly to the kitchens. Hermione, on the other hand, did attend supper, though very early on. She managed to finish as most students started to arrive.

Her day had been as terrible as the previous. She had not been completely able to hide out in her room due to her classes, but was found there if she wasn't in a lesson. Hermione would still not talk to her roommates and her tears seemed to not have dried up. Hearing people whisper when she was near had almost sent her into tears again. The one sight that had succeeded in making her cry was that of Ron, briefly in the common room; he was like her walking, freckled broken heart. At dinner Hermione realized she had not truly seen or spoken to Harry since the fiasco—a full day. (This revelation also sent her on the verge of tears). However, as much as she probably needed him, it just didn't seem right. It'd be like spitting in Ron's face, again.

That late evening, after Hermione had eaten and stayed holed up in her room for a good while, she decided to go see Ginny. She was becoming lonely, more downtrodden, and sincerely wanted to speak to someone who wouldn't judge or look at her funny. The Head Girl went down to the common room and searched for the Weasley girl, ignoring most of the room's stares. She didn't see her, so tried her room. Lauren Chid answered and looked surprised to see Hermione. The Chaser amiably let her in and then considerately left. Ginny was the only other girl inside, and she sat at her desk reading.

"Ginny." Hermione tentatively began, her voice beginning to waver. The redhead looked at her.

"Ginny, I… I really need to talk to someone—you."

"About what," she replied, setting the book down, "About what happened yesterday? About what you and _Harry_ did to my brother?"

"Ginny, I—" Hermione frantically started, sensing something was wrong.

"Let me see if I have all of it. You and Harry go out with each other, presumably at the start of this year, and you tell no one. You don't bother telling your friends or the people closest to you, and you selfishly don't _think_ about how _they'll_ feel! It seems that you'll never tell a soul about it—"

"That's not true!" Hermione insisted, tears in her eyes and voice quavering.

"Until Ron finds out about it from_ Malfoy_," Ginny continued, the anger coloring her face, "So, in conclusion, you ruined your friendship and trust, and crushed his heart! Not only that, but you may have hurt more than just Ron!" Hermione couldn't speak anymore, and stood there holding herself as if she were cold.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about Hermione?" she cruelly pondered. Hermione turned and abruptly left, hating herself. So, it seemed she had lost Ginny as well. Who else was angry with her and Harry? Oh, this was simply too much to bear! Hermione couldn't handle it. They had brought this upon themselves, hadn't they? But was this outcome fair? This painful outcome?

Crying, she hurried out of the common room, desperate to be anywhere else. She would hide somewhere. The Hufflepuffs had rounds, and it'd be exceedingly awkward if they found her weeping uncontrollably. Hermione sharply turned a corner and almost collided with Harry. He looked permanently put out.

"Hermione?" he questioned, noticing her tear stained face. After almost 48 hours of misery, she realized he was the solution for alleviating it. Not caring about it not seeming right, or if anyone saw them, Hermione threw her arms around him. Harry immediately held her just as tightly as she began to sob to him the story of Ginny. After she finished, he told her about his incident with Malfoy.

"The entire castle is watching us, talking about us. It's horrible," she said, still holding him, "We should have just told them Harry—we should have just told them! Especially R-Ron!" At the mention of his name, fresh tears surfaced.

"I know," he assured, "We… we waited too long."

"He had t-to hear about it from _M-Malfoy_, of all people! I hate this. Everyone's regarding us, and R-Ron… the t-thought of us sickens him!" He hushed her cries by rubbing her back and kissing her neck, once.

"I know it's bad Hermione," Harry stated, "I can't stand it anymore than you can, and am entirely furious with myself. I'd do almost anything to get… to get, him, back," He couldn't bring himself to say Ron's name, "I regret not telling him and the way things are now, but I'll never regret acting on my feelings for you. Never. I wouldn't give you up for all Europe. I wouldn't give you up just so… just so he would speak to us again, either." They stayed in the corridor for a few more minutes continuing to cling to one another, with an occasional sniff coming from Hermione.

* * *

A/N: Ta da! (Bet you haven't heard that in awhile, huh buddy)? There. My coming back chapter. I don't really like it, but it is what it is. I have a **really big question I need someone to answer**: do the Hogwarts students go home for Easter! I honestly cannot remember, and need to know. Anywho! I'll post again next week, promise. Kay, later much! 


	28. The Absence of Days Gone By

A/N: Another week, another chapter. And I posted again like I said I would! Yay me! Okay, I wanna say merci to **Danielle, Paige Halliwell, **and **Lolly O'Neill. Lolly: **thanks for the compliment of me getting Draco right. The odd thing is I love him, lol. I don't think he's evil, but he is nasty, there's no denying that.** Falron, **I know this is overdue, but happy belated birthday anyway. Oh, and thanks for all the people who responded to my Easter question. I got mixed answers but I will improvise, lol.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 28

Dean became the new Gryffindor prefect. He was shocked and felt slightly hesitant in accepting the job, mainly because it had been Ron's. Ron, however, insisted it was fine by him since he _had _lost it. So Dean tried to do his best, still a little nervous but proud as well.

Harry and Hermione became more isolated from Hogwarts with each passing day. The rest of the school seemed to follow Ron's example of letting them be. Most of the population left them alone because they didn't know what exactly was going on, they felt Hermione & Harry _wanted _to be alone, or because they felt what the two had done to Ron was unforgivable. Their friends, or possibly ex-friends, were the same way: they avoided them because they were confused, felt solitude was what the two craved, or because they were angry at Harry and Hermione for keeping it secret. This noted, a regular colored Malfoy was extremely pleased with his work, though smart enough to not confront any of the trio.

Ron kept to his word and went on as if he had never met the two. He did a good job of ignoring Harry in their dormitory and stopped attending DA meetings. One wasn't held until a week after the infamous fight, and it was indeed odd. At the end a timid Ravenclaw fifth year, amongst a group of curious students, had enough valor to ask Harry about the rumors.

"Yes, I am going out with Hermione. End of story."

"Well, then what about your friend Ron—"

"I'd really like it if you'd just drop it. I'm not going to answer your questions," he hotly revealed. A scowling, silent Ginny was the first one to leave, followed hurriedly by the rest of the group. His roommates threw him glances as they exited the room. (He had not spoken to anyone about his fall out with Ron and that included them. He knew he was pushing them away by not talking, but concluded they had probably formed their own hypothesis about the situation anyway. Hermione had not spoken to her roommates about the matter either).

Luna Lovegood remained when the others had gone, and approached Harry, who was comforting a forlorn looking Hermione.

"I just want to say," she began, "That I do not blame you for anything. You're merely following your hearts and if anyone can't see that, then may a raging retma find them."

"Thanks Luna, that means a lot." Harry murmured, really meaning it. Hermione only nodded.

"They'll come eventually… the ones who truly care about you." As she walked out, Harry wondered if she was still talking to Ron. He angrily deduced that Ron was too stubborn to know when a good thing was in front of him.

Harry may have driven Ron away from the DA, but not from Quidditch. Things did, on the other hand, take on a dramatic change. Harry was the only one whom really spoke, and that was to only give instructions and advice on the plays; the way they used to laugh and talk about anything seemed to have vanished. The other four recognized the tension between their captain, Ron, and Ginny, and certainly did not want to remind them of it by asking questions. Harry also appeared to have developed the inability to say the Keeper's name, and often said, "Um" while looking at Ron to get his attention. Consequently, the redhead had no trouble saying Harry's name, though it was usually elongated and uttered with scorn.

Inevitably, Harry and Hermione's relationship was made known to the wizarding world. There was more than one article published about the two and almost all mentioned the fight with Ron, though details were sketchy. (With four Houses full of kids, whom many had written to various people about Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, it was hard to pinpoint how the press had found out). The editorials made Ron more unyielding in his conviction of an abandoned friendship, and the lovely couple more secluded.

Molly Weasley sent both Harry and Hermione a letter that was essentially the same: each was short and imploring. She was shell-shocked and wanted to know if it was all true. Mrs. Weasley of course wrote to her children; their letters were much longer and demanded answers. In fact, it seemed most all of the Weasleys wrote to Harry, as did Remus. His unofficial godfather was rightfully alarmed and worried, so Harry found it in himself to reply. (He would leave it up to Ron to inform his family of the affair, which he would unarguably do. He would relay to them how Harry had driven the knife right in his back, and then twisted it mercilessly). Hermione decided to write to her parents about the happening, or at least her mother, since they lived in the Muggle world.

Like previous years, Harry received mail from assorted wizards in response to the articles. Figuring most would only bash Hermione (and him, to some extent) for their actions, he didn't bother reading them beyond the fourth. Harry was not in the mood to hear what others thought about his relationship so they were all burnt.

Hermione and Harry's meal schedule had been altered in addition. They would eat breakfast when most had dispelled or not yet arrived, and had a late dinner. Lunch was sometimes forgotten altogether. Hermione had not brought up the subject of NEWTs once since that fateful day, and Harry had dully noticed this. He did not point it out; he felt its significance was non-existent.

* * *

Harry sat on the edge of one of Hagrid's gigantic armchairs, mindlessly spinning his teacup on its saucer. Hermione sat right next to him with one leg beneath her and her cup resting on the floor. She had one hand on his knee. Hagrid came back from the stove and sat across from them with a fresh cup of tea and rum. He looked at the two intently a moment before saying: 

"'Ow long as it bin since ya spoke tah 'em?"

"Two weeks…"

"Rite sorry, I yam." They met his gaze.

"You know everything?" asked Harry. The half-giant nodded, sighing.

"Perty much. Ased Ron what sactly went down tha uther day in Care. Tol' me, thout so much asa blink. 'E sounded too normal, but looked brokin." It was quiet for a minute, then Hermione blurted out:

"We're so sorry Hagrid. We should have come to visit you more often, and much sooner!"

"Ah—don' bee apalagizin'! Ya 'ad a lot tah do this year; ya both were bezee. I don' blame ya, an' know ya dent'it mean nuthin' by it. 'Sides, with what 'ap'ened erleyer, I'm sure talks wit ol' 'Agrid was tha lass thing on yer min," he lectured. Their former professor studied them again, "Down rite 'orrible." Neither Gryffindor knew what to say.

" 'Ow long 'ave you two bin tagether?" Hagrid pondered.

"Since November," Harry responded. The man nodded, looking solemn, "You… you don't think we're… terrible, for doing this, do you Hagrid?"

"Course not," he declared, "Yer mad fer askin' that! You two 'ave a _rite _tah bee wit one anuther! In fact, I'm glad ya are. I always knew there was sumthin' spechelle 'tween you two. Could tell by tha way yer always talked 'bout esh uhter, _to _esh uther, _looked _at esh uther. Anyone who knew ya well 'nough shuda seen it. Jus' glad it fine'ly 'ap'ened. Ya daserve it."

"Yeah, it finally happened and now everyone hates us." Harry noted, taking Hermione's hand in his.

"Rite now, ya jus say, 'Ta hell wit 'em'. They'll git over it soon 'nough. An' if they don', then yer better off thout 'em," offered Hagrid.

"But what about R-Ron? We… we really hurt him. He's never going to forgive us." Hermione said.

"Yeah, well, wit Ron…thas a delakit sitchuation."

"We should have told him. We shouldn't have waited so long. We shouldn't have been so afraid." Harry commented.

"I dunno 'Arry. Maybe 'e woulda bin 'urt no mattar when ya tol' 'em. Tha only thing lef fer Ron now is time—time tah think an' 'eal," Hagrid remarked, "Let me jus' ask ya this—would ya end yer relaytionship tah git Ron tah talk tah ya agin?"

"No," he determinedly replied, squeezing her hand. She gazed at him with sad appreciation and awe. Hagrid gave a small, approving smile. Silence reentered the room again. Hermione's eyes swept over the hut's inside. As Hagrid started looking uncomfortable and fidgeting with his empty cup, she noticed something out of the ordinary.

"Hagrid…," she slowly began, eyeing a massive pack near the door, "What is that?" He looked to where Hermione was pointing. Upon seeing it, he appeared to become truly uneasy.

"Ah… that," mumbled Hagrid.

"What is it?" Harry repeated, genuinely curious.

"Iss, uh… iss… iss my pack."

"Pack for what?" the Head Girl questioned, a bit of forbidding overtaking her.

"I'm… I'm leavin'." Hagrid told them.

"What! Why? Where!" Harry responded.

"I shuda tol' ya sooner," he suddenly wailed, dropping the cup (and thereby breaking it), "Iss Grawp an' iss bad! 'E was taken!"

"What!"

"By whom!" Hermione desperately wondered.

"Tha uther giants! Tha ones under… under You-Know-'Hoo." Hagrid exposed. She gasped.

"Hagrid…" Harry quietly started, not sure what else to say.

"I haf tah go an' save 'em. Thas my bruther. I'm leavin' real soon. Grubbly-Plank will take me classes over. Dumbledore knows 'bout it. Is 'elpin me out, 'e is. Great man…"

"When will you be back?" Hermione inquired, her voice thick. Two tears had fallen.

"Don' know, 'Ermione—don' know. Jus' know I gotta git Grawp back." It was silent once more. This was madness. Hagrid was going to rescue his brother, who was in the clutches of Voldemort's followers, and put himself in harm's way. Yet another person Harry knew affected directly by the Dark Lord. _What next, _the boy bitterly contemplated, _What other good news will I receive?_

"I… I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe you're leaving." Harry commented. Yes, leaving them totally alone with no one to find comfort in or fall back on (besides Luna)—their last anchor of support.

"I'll bee fine… _yu'll _bee fine. Jus' lisen tah what I tol' ya: ignore tha uthers, don' let 'em breng ya down. They don' know what ya 'ave." Hermione wiped her face.

"You make sure you stay safe Hagrid. Come back, with Grawp," she demanded, voice still thick with emotion.

"That I will, 'Ead Gurl." Hagrid tearily promised. She got up to hug the half-giant as Harry drearily slouched back, having trouble digesting this recent development.

Ron sat at one of the tables in the common room with his homework spread out all around him and his head down on one of the textbooks. He had been sitting in the same position for half an hour, accomplishing nothing but thought. Lately to Ron, everything seemed rather trivial and difficult to carry out. He was having trouble focusing, truthfully. He had stopped going to DA meetings because it was simply too much to see the two together, yes. He had written to his family about Harry and Hermione, thus putting a strain on the relationship between the Weasleys and his two ex-friends, yes. He had ceased speaking to many people (but not his three roommates or Ginny), yes. But he had _not_ stopped mulling over Harry and Hermione in his mind.

They appeared to be the only things left in his brain, causing him to recall old memories and remind himself how badly they had betrayed him. If Ron was thinking of one more than the other, it had to be Hermione. He had liked her for four years, had gone through hell because of that fact, and had ended up empty handed. This entire seventh year, Ron had made it a point to show Hermione how he felt about her, or at least begin to. And what had been the fruits of his labor? _Harry _had won her, the one whom had conceivably shown no interest in her. He had gone behind Ron's back and stolen her, fully _knowing _Ron cared about her. _Who are you to interpret Harry's feelings for her? He _must _care for her_, a voice lectured.

He swiftly ordered the voice to shut up. Well, Hermione obviously liked Harry a great deal… hadn't she always? Ron thought so. It was quite lucid, but he had always depended on the fact that Harry didn't return the feelings. Clearly, he had been wrong. Ron couldn't count the times he had been unrighteous in his jealousy of Harry for holding Hermione's admiration, hoping that for once she would look at him the same way she looked at Harry. When did Ron get thrown out of the loop? What had happened? Where had he gone wrong? _Probably in not being _Harry.

…

_Ron walked down the boys' staircase and into the common room. It was a little past 11:30 at night, and the room was deserted for the most part. The only bodies present were two drowsy fourth years near the hearth, and Hermione._ _She sat at a table diligently completing homework. Ron gave a small smile and made his way over to her. The end of the world could suddenly befall and Hermione would _still _be found doing work._

"_Is this all you do?" he playfully asked, sitting down in a chair next to her. Hermione looked up, just noticing him. _

"_Hi Ron," she smiled._

"_You didn't answer my question." She pursed her lips. _

"_Ha ha," the Head Girl replied._

"_Really Hermione, you need to have fun."_

"_I do!…. And is it so bad if I think _working _is fun?"_

"_It's not normal, that's for sure." Ron commented, grinning._

"_Well, _I _happen to enjoy it, _Ron!_ And if you—"_

"_Whoa, Hermione—breathe," he suggested, holding up his hand in surrender, "I just wanted to push your buttons!" Ron thought it funny how rapidly Hermione could get worked up, and fairly charming…._

_She smiled in spite of herself and commenced writing again. Ron did his best not to stare at her through the stillness. His feelings for her had definitely been altered since his time as a first year. They still occasionally quarreled, yes—perhaps that would never change. But he could now see her astonishing qualities, of which she possessed many. Sometimes Ron was angered by how much she had him falling after her._

"_Are you… waiting for Harry?" he inquired. Harry was indeed still out and about in the castle, plausibly doing something that was not pleasurable. Ron was awake partly because his best friend was gone, partly because he was bored, and partly because he couldn't sleep. Hermione's answer, however, was extremely important; one word would make or break him. He gazed at her._

"_I just had a few things to get done, and all of my roommates are asleep. I knew Harry was still out, but…" the Muggleborn explained. Relief, and a bit of daringness, swept over him. A fierce wind outside threw itself against the school forcefully._

"_Hermione?" Ron unsurely started._

"_Yes?" she said, looking at him searchingly. He had no choice but to look in her face. It was compassionate, always compassionate, and beautifully devoid of make-up. His eyes flickered to the side of her head. A strand of her hair was sticking up behind her ear._

"_You've… got something, there," he half-smiled, reaching for it. _

"_Oh," He pushed it back with the rest of her mane, "Thanks." Ron's hand lingered there for a moment before slowly falling. (Hermione had gone back to being absorbed with her tasks). He opened his mouth to say something but was distracted by the sight of her face once more. After that his gaze fell to her shoulders, her neck. Ron wanted to do what he had been envisioning for years—to merely kiss her._

_Holding all of this in was driving him insane, and it wasn't fair. Before he knew what was happening, he found his body gradually leaning forward. His eyes were fixed on her lips and nothing else. Time seemed to have stopped. He had forgotten himself, but not her—never her._

"_R-Ron," she loudly stated. He stopped and took everything in, being jolted back into reality. He was closer than he had discerned, and her eyes showed confusion & shock._

"_What…" Hermione weakly began. Ron cleared his throat and hastily pulled away, feeling immensely stupid and remorseful. Before anything could be said or clarified, the portrait hole opened. Hermione looked to it, the alarm still apparent on her face. It, as it were, vanished quite quickly, only to be replaced by an attractive beam. Ron looked to it as well: Harry was walking in._

…

Present day Ron took his head from the tome, sitting up. His face scrunched up at the recollection of that night. He had put himself on the line only to be thwarted by Harry, yet again. It had in all probability been a mistake, yes, and he & Hermione had not spoken of the incident since, but Ron wanted to know what would have happened if Harry hadn't come in.

As the ex-prefect sighed and reached for his quill, he saw two people enter the common room out of the corner of his eye. Harry and Hermione, the perfect couple itself, walked in and most everyone watched them. They however, paid this fact no attention and purposefully (and silently) went to the girls' staircase, presumably to Hermione's room. Ron watched them their entire journey. On the last step Harry's eyes, against his will, involuntarily went to Ron. This caused the Gryffindor Keeper's face to warp with anger, look away, and slam his textbook shut. Ron was no longer in the mood to do homework, if he had ever been.

* * *

Hermione walked in the corridor by herself, hanging onto her bag as if it was the only thing left in her life that she could find joy in. She had class in a bit and figured she'd might as well get there early to pick out the most remote seat. Hagrid had left the previous day, and she and Harry had gone to say their farewells. She hated how empty and wrong it had seemed without Ron by their side to bid him goodbye. 

A bell rang and the classes that had been in session were let out. An uncomfortable frown appeared on Hermione's face as the various students surrounded her and she pulled her bag closer to her. It was hard facing the ridicule of the school without Harry there next to her, to support her. The Head Girl picked her pace up to escape the leering of her peers by getting to Arithmancy.

"Hermione!" someone called. She shut her eyes and did not cease. She was _not _about to answer someone's rude, nosy questions regarding her boyfriend. When he called again, though, she _did _stop, recognizing the voice.

David Rice parted through the crowd, wearing a sincere expression. Hermione hadn't spoken to him since the fallout so didn't know what to expect, but was horribly happy to see him at the moment.

"Hermione," he said when he had reached her. Rice's face conveyed a strong confidence, but a sad concern as well. After a while of silence, he took her hand and led her to the least busy part of the hall.

"Hermione," he started, "I can't _imagine_ how you're getting through all this. I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault David—why are you apologizing?" Hermione replied.

"Because you shouldn't have to go through this," said David, studying her, "Listen, I… I knew about you and Harry. I knew you were going out with him." She looked at him, surprised.

"What? How? W-When?" she wondered.

"It was in January. I just noticed how you two acted around each other, how you spoke of each other, and put it all together. I guessed, but when you showed me your Christmas gift from Harry, it rather clicked everything in place." Hermione nodded, noting how David had used his Ravenclaw intelligence for detective work.

"I think you two make a fantastic couple. Who else is right for one another? You have a massive history together, and it makes complete sense that you'd fall for each other," he explained.

"Thanks David." Hermione said, giving a small half-smile.

"It's wrong what everyone is doing to you. Who are they to say whom you have a relationship with? Even if you have lost a few friends over this, I'll still be here." She forced herself to keep her tears down as she gave David a hug, extremely glad that she had met him this year and knowing that there were people out there like him.

* * *

A/N: This chapter turned out to be longer than expected, for having such few events happen in it. I also despised this chapter for some reason. Anyway! Couple o' things…. I hate writing for Hagrid. It sucks. Yeah. If you didn't like my sending him away, sorry, but I hate Hagrid. He bothers me. I've said before that I don't like Rice, and I don't. Lol. I know he's my character but he's such a goody goodie! I only reintroduce him for Hermione's sake; he's important to her. (If you can't tell, Rice still likes Hermione, but nothing is gonna happen). Erm, I'll post again next week. Only six chapters left, at most :D 


	29. No Easter Eggs This Year

A/N: Whoa, ho, yo, yeah, hello there! I didn't post last week—sorry! That just means I'll post twice this week. So, thanks to **Jensindenial3516, danrad820, **and **Bob33. **However, I would like to address some of the reviews I got. **Bob: **you'll find out why Ginny is mad at them in a later chapter. Don't worry, it's all explained. **Falron: **so I exaggerated Hagrid's speech, huh? (Shrugs). I tried, right? I told you people I don't like writing for him…. Well, that's all for this author's note so I'll just be quiet now.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 29

Harry and Hermione went back to their normal eating habits, which meant they now ate alongside everyone else at Hogwarts; early and late meals were things of the past. Harry was particularly tired of acting as if they had committed a crime and weren't fit to be a part of society. Consequently, they did eat by themselves at their own part of the Gryffindor table. In fact, they did most everything by themselves and were starting to appear in public, together, more often than not. Their initial guilt and worry had worn off thanks to the seemingly constant attention they received and if they were absent from Hogwarts' life, it was because they didn't feel like being in the midst of others—it had nothing to do with shame. They no longer cared if the Hogwarts' population thought of their relationship scornfully, especially not Harry; he had taken Hagrid's advice straight to the heart.

The issue of Harry and Hermione itself had dwindled in size, though it was still rather large and the two were still left alone in the whole. Ron was nonetheless the most resolute about the situation, and the couple still mourned his distance from them, but Harry found that even his attitude towards Ron was changing. The silent DA meetings continued, in which Ginny refused to speak to Harry and Hermione, as did the awkward Quidditch practices. Both events, however, _were _improving. While friendly conversation was not in the horizon for quite some time, Harry could at least talk without it being painful. He was even starting to hold three minute conversations about an assignment or the weather with his roommates, which was quite an achievement. (He had not overcome his handicap for saying Ron's name, however. He remained to be called Him, or He).

Harry continued to have his weekly training sessions with the designated older wizards and excel in them. They had heard about his situation involving his two best friends from assorted resources, but knew not to question him. (Tonks, on the other hand, merely came right out and asked him). Hermione did not enjoy when her boyfriend had Quidditch or dueling lessons because it left her alone, without her only companion. She would not admit this to Harry, conversely, for fear that she would come off as needy or desperate. But as if he understood this, numerous times Harry would return only to take her to the Astronomy Tower where they would either sit in stillness or talk.

Draco Malfoy appeared to have fallen back a great deal when it came to harassing the trio. He persisted in taunting and smirking at them when surrounded by others, but his insulting them to their faces mostly disappeared. (Perhaps he felt his previous work had done enough damage, or perhaps the boys' threats had effectively shaken him). Hermione had all but abandoned the Head Room, leaving it for him, and his rounds with her were deadly quiet. Malfoy, if anything, missed being able to torment Potter and his saintly cohorts, and knew he might not be able to ever do so again.

* * *

"The Easter holidays are this weekend." Hermione noted, leaning against one of the walls in Harry's dormitory. Her hands were behind her back and she watched him pull on his Quidditch robes. They were the only two people in the room. 

"Yeah," answered Harry, straightening them. He turned around and looked at her, "Are you going to stay, or… go home?"

"I don't know," she confessed, looking down, "I… thought going home would be nice. Would you want to go to Grimmauld Place?" She surveyed him for the last inquiry.

"Not really. Not with all those Order members coming in and out, staring at me, and possibly asking questions about us," he grumbled, picking up his Firebolt and toying with it, "I'm… I'm just going to stay here." Hermione did not want to be away from Harry at all at the moment, even if it was a short period of time.

"If I do go home, I-I want you to come with me," she told him. Harry stared at her.

"You're… you're serious?"

"Yes. I want you to officially meet my parents. Mum would be thrilled, though I'm not entirely sure about my dad…" Hermione said. He continued to gaze at her.

"That's if I go. I'd be more than happy to stay here, with you," she went on, now a little unsure of herself because he wasn't responding. Harry looked away at last and put his broom on his shoulder, apparently thinking. After a moment or so, he walked over to her.

"Whatever you want." Harry said, giving her a small kiss. Hermione smiled faintly as she looked at him.

"I have to go," he noted.

"Yeah," she concurred, wishing it weren't true.

"I'll see you later." Harry quickly kissed her again before exiting his room. Hermione stayed on the wall a minute longer before sighing and then leaving, preparing to go seek out loneliness as the door closed behind her.

"Your left!"," Harry directed, sitting atop his broom and cupping his mouth. Colin and Matthew flew by him, going to stop a Bludger from striking Sarah, "Your left!" Ron, to whom Harry was yelling, paid no attention. He had his gaze set on his sister pelting towards him, and either did not hear Harry's shouts or did not bother to heed them.

"Look to your left!" the captain commanded. The Keeper still did not comply, "Argggh! Your bloody LEFT!" Ginny flew away as Lauren came out of nowhere and scored. Ron looked surprised at first, then it took on a sour .

"Stop!" Harry called, flying over to his team with an irked face. The other six hovered near the goalpost, "That. Was. The. Point! Ginny was the diversion while _Lauren _was the one who was actually going to score. You have to be aware of _everything_! We can't afford to think on one track or ignore small details, like warnings." He did not openly say anything about Ron but he didn't have to do so; they knew he was subtly berating his former best friend for not listening. Ron glowered at the captain, arms folded and mouth closed.

"Okay," sighed Harry, composing himself, "New play!"

"Which one?" asked Matthew.

"Eff." The Weasleys were the only ones who didn't grumble or click their tongues.

"That one's hard." Sarah complained.

"Do you want to win or not?" Harry questioned through gritted teeth. This practice was proving to be very trying and taut. His team would just not cooperate! Did they not understand the Quidditch final was close at hand?

"Erm… Harry?" began Colin.

"What?"

"It's Madam Hooch." Harry and all the others looked down. Madam Hooch stood on the ground with a man and was motioning for them, or him. Harry veered for the ground as the others followed. Once off his broom, he cautiously approached them with his teammates behind him. The man, quite young looking, had light brown hair and was absolutely beaming. His navy blue robes bore a Snitch and Quaffle circling a broomstick on the left breast.

"Holding practice, are you Potter?" Hooch pondered, smiling. He nodded, glancing at the wizard. She knew that-- she was in charge of the field bookings. Harry heard whispering in back of him, excited whispering.

"Potter, _this _is Bert Riley, an official from the Quidditch League," she introduced. Seeing it as okay to take over in speaking, the wizard did just that, and energetically.

"Bert Riley, Mr. Potter," he unnecessarily repeated in an Irish accent, sticking out a hand. Harry shook it, "I work for the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I'm basically a scout for the League." Harry's head flew. A scout!

"Very glad to finally meet you! I've heard so many stories of your flying and Quidditch talents! Seeker _and _captain for Gryffindor, are you? First first year in a century!" Riley remarked, grinning. There was annoyed mumbling, a scoff, and then a loud:

"You're not only here for the _captain, _are you?" Ron wondered. Riley looked to the Keeper and his smile waned.

"Er… no, of c-course not," he responded. Hooch frowned disapprovingly at Ron, "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley, Keeper."

"Weasley, eh? I know your father… yes, the red hair…. Also, I've heard a little jingle about Weasley… something to do with royalty." The former prefect scowled inconspicuously as all the others strained to keep a straight face, including Harry. K

"I shall be here up until the Final, watching the different Houses' teams," Riley went on, grinning once more, "Looking for potential professional Quidditch players, naturally. I've already seen Hufflepuff practice."

"Are you going to watch us? Right now?" a Chaser pondered. The scout looked at her expectantly and a small blush crept on her face.

"Lauren Chid, Chaser," she remarked.

"Why yes, Ms. Chid, I do believe so. But, please! Pay me no mind! Pretend that I'm not even here!" Riley smiled widely at Harry again before commencing to follow Hooch to the stands.

"Um… back in the air, then," the captain instructed. Ginny, Colin, and Sarah were the first ones gone, whispering intently to each other. Ron shot Harry a definite glare before taking off with Matthew. The Seeker noticeably exhaled as he mounted his broom; this was going to be interesting.

Everyone soon knew of Bert Riley and the school's Quidditch players were in a frenzy. Some resorted to trying harder to impress the scout and succeeded in either actually improving, or messing up and embarrassing themselves. Draco Malfoy was, predictably, found boasting that he'd be one of Riley's top picks, but didn't know if he wanted to accept the offer. David Rice had no interest in being a professional sports star so was not concerned about Riley in any sense. Much of the Gryffindor team was caught up in the allure of true Quidditch, but this did not affect its performance; it still played superbly. Ron undoubtedly had a desire to put his foot in the door that belonged to the League, as did Matthew Burnstone.

Harry, on the other hand, had no idea what he craved. Quidditch was clearly a pleasure of his; he loved in tremendously. The problem he had was that he had spent his last two years at Hogwarts (in reality three years) preparing to become an Auror. Was he going to give up that noble goal for the dream of a Quidditch career? How could he with Voldemort still breathing? It wasn't as if Harry's capture of the Snitch would bring the Dark Lord crumbling to his knees. But… why did Harry's life-- his _wants_-- have to take a backseat? _Because that's the way it's always been. You'll never be happy as long as Voldemort is living, and you have to do something about that_.

Harry told Hermione about his insecurity pertaining to Riley & Quidditch, and not knowing what he wanted. (He of course left out the entire issue of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named). She did not guess it completely but had a sense of the self-obligation that was confusing him. This made Hermione angry with everyone and everything that kept Harry from tending to his own needs, and believing that if he did so, it was selfish. In the end, she was about as lost as he was on the subject of advice and simply told him to do whatever was truly in his heart.

* * *

Harry sat in one of the common room's numerous relaxing chairs, with a book about becoming an Auror laying lifelessly in his hands. (It was the Christmas present from Ginny). Only one other Gryffindor occupied the vicinity-- everyone else was at the Slytherin, Ravenclaw Quidditch game. Harry could hear all of the excitement so well, it was as though he _was _outside with the rest of Hogwarts. Hermione was tutoring her equally brainy Arithmancy student in the library. (He did not care whether he saw the match or not). Harry's eyes drifted down to the page he was stuck on before lifting them once more to stare at the wall. His reading had ceased 10 minutes ago because his mind had begun to meander. 

The previous day, Luna had divulged to Harry that Ron and Ginny were going home for the Easter holiday, which also indicated she was indeed continuing to speak to him.

"He said there was no reason to stay here," Luna had explained, while watching a butterfly through a window, "I tried to get him to talk about you, but he was spectacularly closed mouthed about it."

This revelation had gotten Harry to ponder Hermione's proposal of her parents' home. Yes, it would be nice to leave the boundary of the castle's walls, but the idea of fraternizing with his girlfriend's parents (father) was intimidating. How would Ron react if he found out Harry had spent the holiday alone with Hermione, in her house? _Who cares? It's not his business_.

Harry scolded himself for being so brutal to Ron and returned to his book. He shouldn't be angry with Ron; _he _had wronged _him_, at least in Ron's eyes. But it was difficult sometimes… not being fed up with his ex-best friend…. Just as he got back into the flow of reading, the portrait hole opened. Harry hoped for it to be the Head Girl, and was alarmed to see Parvati Patil. Like all others, he had not conversed with her since everyone had found them out. Why had she left the game? His attention remained fully on her as she moved, and unease settled in his bones as she approached him, enough to make him actually slouch down.

"Er, hi, Harry." Parvati nervously greeted, tucking hair behind her ear.

"Hi… Parvati," he responded, slowing closing _Becoming an Auror: 'A' Is For Arduous_.

"Um…" she started, staring at the chair next to his. After a minute of indecisiveness, she speedily sat down without looking at him. Harry didn't know what to make of her actions.

"Why'd you… leave the match?" he asked.

"Because I thought it'd be the perfect time to talk to you," Parvati said, turning to face him, "I knew you'd stay behind. You never go to watch Quidditch matches anymore…"

"Talk about what?" He was not sure he wanted to discuss what was on her mind.

"You and Hermione. I feel I have to." Harry's face must have visibly shown displeasure because she immediately launched into a narrative:

"I'm not going to say anything negative, promise! I'm not upset over it and don't understand why others… well, everyone except Ron, are. I mean, it's really not their concern. They act as if you two killed someone." He looked at Parvati as she went on.

"Hermione won't talk to me or Lavender about it, but… I don't know. I should have noticed something sooner. Hermione was always going on and on about you, and she had about 2000 pictures surrounding her bed. I thought it normal, if not excessive, because you've known each other for seven years, you know? But, you've known each other _for seven years_. That's an incredible amount of time for a relationship." Parvati stopped to sigh before plowing on, rubbing her arm.

"Hermione's good for you, Harry. She, and Ron, know you like no one else does. And even though you're being snubbed by the school, it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?" he questioned, giving a miniscule, shrewd smile. She looked at him, shocked by his act of actually replying, then smiled faintly.

"Of course not. Look at me-- I'm dating a _Slytherin!_," Harry grinned shamefully, remembering this, "People are going to talk no matter what, mainly because they have nothing else to do. It does get to you sometimes, but as long as you have that other person, it's okay; you know you're not alone." He nodded, closing and opening the cover of the tome repeatedly. Parvati had a magnificent point, one that made him feel better about the situation. It was silent for a little while before the twin commented jokingly:

"But what am I talking about? You know all about being despised." Harry looked at her accusingly, and then they both laughed a bit.

"I'm glad to know I-- _we_-- have your support, Parvati," he remarked. Parvati could now be added to the list of the three other people whom held no contempt for Harry and Hermione. Perhaps Hagrid had been right….

"Of course. I understand," she smiled, "You know… I'd give you a hug, but I'm not sure if Hermione would appreciate it." Parvati stood up.

"I'm going back to the Quidditch match. I hope the days when you finally attend come again soon," she announced, "Bye Harry."

"Bye Parvati." As Parvati neared the exit/entrance, it opened and Hermione came in. The girls and roommates stared at one another briefly before Parvati drew Hermione into a quick embrace. After she had gone without so much as a word, the Head Girl looked at Harry, perplexed. He simply smiled faintly in return.

It was decided by Hermione and Harry that they would remain at Hogwarts for Easter. So, they did just that. (Hermione wrote to her parents and promised them that Harry would come round during the summer). Neville was the only other boy leaving in honor of the holiday and so both purebloods left together. He bid all of his friends and roommates farewell that day, whereas Ron only wished Dean and Seamus a good vacation. He left the room without once looking at Harry.

About half of the school's students opted to stay behind while the other half returned home. Harry and Hermione found this to be pleasurable; the unwanted attention they received faded somewhat, but they persisted to avoid most people overall. They spent their free hours walking the castle's geography (both inside and out) while discussing various things, until it began to grow late. Their roommates were becoming more valiant in their endeavors to break down the barrier that Hermione and Harry had been forced to put up. During some meals the couple actually sat with its old friends, even if it was occasionally silent. They even accomplished the feat of getting Harry to promise to attend the upcoming Quidditch game, or at least to stay for some of it.

On post-Easter morning Harry went down to breakfast to see Hermione already present, sitting a moderate distance away from the other seventh years.

"This Easter was a first," he began, easing down next to her, "No eggs from Mrs. Weasley."

"Yes," she sighed, as if the reminder depressed her.

"I wonder why," Harry said, pouring orange juice, "No doubt _he _successfully managed in getting the whole family to hate us."

"Harry," Hermione carefully started, "I doubt R-Ron would do something so intentional and… cruel."

"Yeah? I don't. He did the same thing to Hogwarts, why not his family? He's on a crusade to make _everybody _loathe us." She gazed at him with a bedazzled expression.

"Harry, he's just hurt, a-and I don't think--"

"He's had his time to be hurt, Hermione. He's just being stubborn now!" Harry argued, practically hissing. Hermione was now looking at him disbelievingly. He sighed deeply and tried again in a softer voice, grabbing her hand.

"If you want to know the truth, Hermione, I'm… he's beginning to annoy me-- his attitude is starting to be more than I can take. I know he's still upset with us, but it's pushing the limit. I'm around him a lot more than you are; you don't see it." She tore her gaze, and her hand, away from him and stared down at her plate.

"Hermione--" he began to plead. At that moment, however, the _Daily Prophet _fell down in front of Hermione. On the first page in piercing letters was the title: **Goblin Attack**. A picture of vandalized houses and smoke was directly beneath it. The Head Girl gasped as Harry unfolded the periodical for them both and dived right into it.

* * *

A/N: My fingers are killing me. Anyway, I have to retype (and rewrite!) chapter nine. It royally SUCKS that I have to do that but it just disappeared on me one day. It's probably gonna be shorter than the original, since I'll be composing it from memory and I don't have every single detail sketched into my brain. Don't know when I'll get it up, but hopefully by next week. 


	30. At Long Last

A/N: This stupid chapter… it was longer than I intended it to be and it's pretty boring. Well, those are my thoughts anyway; I'll let you people be the judge. Erm, thanks to **gothic-hands, meg, radicalangel7, **and **pureangel86**. Lol—I enjoyed everyone's guess of Ron's house being targeted. DUDES! So sorry about the really long wait, but I couldn't post anything for like two weeks! My account was temporarily suspended 'cause of some of my ancient stories that violated the rules or whatever! I was so pissed! But whatever. It's over now and I can finally post again.

**Lock and Key**  
Chapter 30

According to the article, small armies of rebel and wild goblins attacked numerous wizarding communities all over Britain. Some of these places included Diagon Alley and a town very close to the Weasleys' residence. (The Gringotts employees put up a fearless fight against their brothers). The goblins had joined forces with Voldemort and fought on his behalf. Indeed, the evil wizard was seen in person himself helping to demolish Diagon Alley. A large team of Ministry workers dispatched to stop him, and Voldemort killed about half of them before Apparating away to an unknown location.

For the most part the goblins were defeated, which meant death, though some of the settlements they raided were virtually annihilated. The wizards had casualties as well, some of which were children, a few bound to return to Hogwarts. Tom Riddle had put a hit on Ollivander and sent about ten goblins to rid of him, but that venture failed when all of the store owner's wands flew out of their boxes to protect him and viciously combat the creatures.

The school's students were seriously frightened by the news. What was the Dark Lord going to pull next? What terrifying things was he going to keep coming up with? How long until something purely destructive took place, such as a massacre? As for the kids arriving back to Hogwarts from vacation, intense safety measures were taken. Dumbledore himself, and various members of the Magical Law Enforcement Department, rode the train to the station and back again. (Other law enforcement officials were positioned to stay and guard Platform 9 and ¾). The students thought it odd to see this, but were acutely grateful. Draco Malfoy had something to say, of course, and vocalized that things were being handled ridiculously.

The students whom had stayed at the castle for Easter were happy to see their peers make it back safely, and bombarded them with questions as to whether or not they had witnessed the goblin assaults. For the four pupils lost in the goblin rebellion (a Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and two Hufflepuffs), banners were created in their honor and a moment of silence was given during the drab dinner that night. Hermione had been severely distressed for Ron and Ginny's well being what with an attack so near to their home, and Harry had to admit that he had too worried. So when they saw the two Weasley children in the common room with Neville, surrounded by their friends, it was a relief. It did, consequently, make the Head Girl sad; she wanted to be able to approach them as in old days and demonstrate her gratitude for their safety, but could not. The redheads in turn saw Harry and Hermione looking at them from a remote corner of the room. To Harry, it seemed as if Ginny was peering back with an unusual glint in her eyes. Ron, on the other hand, held the same bitterness in his before he ceased looking at them. Their reunion via a short staring sequence ended with Hermione desolately leaving the common room and Harry following her. That same night, Harry awoke in bed suddenly with his scar deliberately tingling and almost panting. He had heard distinct, gleeful laughter that unnerved him. Although most of the goblins were deceased, the Dark Lord was apparently happy with the damage they had done.

The goblin battle appeared to have woken something within Harry. It was the realization that Voldemort would not cease his reign of terror and that it would only grow worse. People he knew and cared for were at risk and could die at any moment; no one was infallible, especially not him. The prophecy, after so long of taking a backseat, began to swim in his mind once more, more resounding than ever. When was he going to tell everyone? When was Harry going to confess that the key to stopping Voldemort resided in him?

He started to speak less each and every day, giving in to the thoughts of his fate. He appeared in classes and at meals but was evermore silent, often staring off into space. His companions noticed his alternation and wondered what could be causing it. They deduced that everyone's attitude towards his relationship with Hermione was beginning to take its toll again, and for this they felt responsible. Hermione herself did not know Harry's dilemma and became fretful. She questioned his behavior and he always responded that things were fine—he simply had a couple of things on his mind.

These couple of things (also known as the prophecy) soon led to Harry isolating himself, even from Hermione. He was generally unresponsive and gave direct, concise answers when he did speak. In his room, the hangings were always shut, and any place else, he sat alone with his head in his hands. Quidditch practices consisted of him sitting in the stands while his teammates flew around overhead, carrying out the plays and worrying slightly. (Ron was a bit curious as to why Harry was acting this way but refused to show it). DA meetings were practically ran by Hermione, who threw dismayed glances at a transfixed Harry who sat lifelessly on a beanbag.

After about a week of this, she could no longer take his silence or elusive responses.

"I don't understand what is wrong with you," she shouted at him, clearly crying, "Why won't you tell me?"

"Hermione, please," Harry begged, a hand on the side of his head, "You're not making this any easier!"

"And what exactly _is_ it! _You_ are not helping me, either! You are not helping by locking me out! What is the point of that Harry! You're the only one I have left, and if you start ignoring me…"

"Hermione, I just _can't _talk to you right now. It's so complicated!" Hermione scoffed and sobbed harder.

"No it's not Harry. You just don't want to tell me." The Head Girl then virtually ran out of the room of requirement, hair flying behind her.

"Hermione!" Harry called, going after her. When he was outside he looked both ways to detect her path, but she was nowhere in sight. He had no clue as to how she had done it, but Hermione was gone. Crying out in frustration and despair, Harry turned back around and began to rapidly destroy objects inside the Room of Requirement with his wand.

* * *

It happened during a training session with Severus Snape, of all people. They were battling in a cleared out dungeon and their brawl had begun to really escalate when Harry merely snapped. Snape flung three curses at Harry in succession, and the boy hardly had time to stop them. (Dueling with Snape was the worst; he had neither mercy nor any form of compassion). 

"Pathetic, Potter," the Potions master declared, delivering another hex. Harry moved inelegantly to the side to avoid it, breathing heavily, "Is this the best you can do! You are dueling with the abilities of a second year Hufflepuff! You have learned _nothing_!" Snape barked out a spell. Harry retaliated, yelling:

"_Confuto_!" The incantation stopped mid-air and evaporated, then Harry commanded his own hex. Snape, however, stopped it in an almost bored fashion.

"Where is your head, Potter! You are wasting my time," he snarled. He then began firing off jinxes terribly fast, glaring at the Gryffindor, "You will not last two minutes before the Dark Lord! He will defeat you with absurd ease! The amount of credit everyone gives you is laughable! You do not have the right to be called a wizard!" Harry, whom had been having immense difficulty dodging Snape's sudden rapid ambush, scowled at his professor before being hit in the abdomen. He shouted out in pure anger as he grabbed the tender spot, eyes closing briefly.

"Continue to fight in this manner and you will _surely _die!" Snape heatedly said, "_Cacocous_!" A gray light shot from his wand, directed at the Boy Who Lived. Harry's eyes shot open.

"_Confuto_!" he growled. Then, with every negative feeling he had due to his teacher's words, he bellowed back, "_AFFLIGO_!" A deep, red beam burst from Harry's wand at frightening speed. Unaltered shock overtook Snape's face, and he barely had enough time to combat it.

"_Protego_!" The spell bounced off the shield, pushing the man back from its sheer force, and hit two of the walls, leaving them to smoke. Harry slumped to the floor as Snape lowered his wand, half gawking, half glaring at him. Harry knew at that moment that he had to tell everyone about the prophecy as soon as possible. His old plan to stall was not going to work anymore; he had to finally reveal the secret of two years, or crumble from the weight.

"Potter…" Snape commenced.

"I might just die, you know," Harry abruptly, not looking at him, "By Voldemort. It's a possibility. The other is that I kill him. Me. Only me. It was in the prophecy. I have to be the one." It was quiet for some time, with only water dripping in a far corner serving as sound.

"I know," came the professor's voice, strained. Harry looked up at him. His arms were folded and he wore an uncomfortable look upon his face. A bit of aggravation also seemed to be a part of it. Harry then realized that Severus Snape had been the first person to hear the truth—_Severus Snape_, and he had known! The man who incessantly made him feel like an idiot.

Harry didn't care how Snape knew of the prophecy. He simply didn't. As he got to his feet, all he cared about was leaving the man's presence, post haste. It was out and he suddenly felt mildly sick. Harry made for the door.

"Where are you going," demanded Snape, uncharacteristic surprise springing from him, "I did not permit you to leave!"

"Oh well. This session is over," Harry rancorously spat, already halfway out the dungeon.

He had to plot it all out. As Harry sat in a dingy, deserted fifth floor classroom that night, he began to miserably think of how he was going to relay the prophecy and to whom. He supposed letters would work well enough since he was too frightened to explain his destiny in person, but knew there was one person for whom a letter would simply not suffice. Remus and the Weasleys had to know immediately. Ron's family might indeed be disappointed with Harry, but he felt mandated to tell them; they had been like _his _family as well. He needed to tell his roommates, all of his Gryffindor peers, and the DA—his friends. As for Order members, Harry would allow Dumbledore to tell them. And as much as he didn't want to recognize or do it, Harry knew Ron had to find out about the prophecy.

The next day Harry spent all of his time in classes writing. (No one bothered him due to their assumption that he was taking extensive notes). Hermione had ceased speaking to him two days earlier, and it pained him to see the look on her face in Charms as she sat by Padma Patil, but he could not be deterred, not yet. She would understand very soon. She would understand how sorry he was.

By the time lessons were over for the day, Harry had all four letters written out to the Weasleys, Remus, the DA, and his close friends (Neville, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and so on). He went to Dumbledore's office instead of dinner, hoping the headmaster was present. He was.

"Harry," Dumbledore said when he stepped in the office, "How can I help you?" Harry looked at him and then down at his written confessions.

"I wrote these today," he muttered, "They're for most everyone I know, a-and they're about the… prophecy." There was utter silence but Harry did not have the nerve to make eye contact with the older wizard and see his reaction.

"I reckon it's time I told… told everyone. You can tell whomever you feel needs to know in the Order, or at the Ministry. I don't care." The Gryffindor then quickly turned on his heel and grabbed the door's handle. It, however, opened on its own, startling him.

"As you wish, Harry," Dumbledore softly guaranteed. The boy hesitated for a moment as if he wanted to say something additional, but left with a shake of his head and not with one backward glance.

The DA was scheduled to have a meeting that night, but the members received a surprise when they walked into the Room of Requirement. Harry was nowhere in sight, nor was Hermione. The students waited for a short amount of time but after fifteen minutes became anxious; Harry was never late and always the first person present. Perhaps he was going through emotional turmoil again…. It wasn't until Ernie Macmillan discovered a lone piece of parchment on a tiny desk in the front of the room that they began to comprehend Harry's behavior.

Ernie read it aloud, and as each sentence ended, he found it difficult to maintain an even voice. It told of Harry's destiny: the prophecy, his inevitable battle with Voldemort. It was noticeably devoid of emotional appeal; he gave them the straight forward truth, leaving out any of his feelings on the subject. When the Hufflepuff finished it was deathly still. For those students to whom the revelation was somewhat logical, it was still mind blowing to actually hear. Perchance during the silence, the DA started to fathom exactly how heavy Harry's burden was and how the past weeks had done nothing to alleviate it, only make it profound. Dean, Neville, and Seamus were the first ones to leave, rushing out. A sniffing, red-eyed Ginny followed. Luna's eyes had a teary film as a pale Colin slowly went after his girlfriend, with stone faced Lavender and Parvati right behind him.

When the three Gryffindor boys entered their dormitory, they hastily whipped their heads around for a sign of Harry. He was nowhere to be found, but three messages on their beds were. (They were the same letter, merely copied). As they commenced reading the more personal, in depth context, Ron walked in. The fact that all three were reading and looked woeful prompted Ron to speak.

"What is it," he questioned, searching their faces. Dean and Seamus stared at him, "What's wrong? Did something happen?" They returned to the parchment, saying nothing. The redhead frowned sadly, not enjoying or understanding their ignorance of him. Something was not right!

"It's Harry." Neville quietly remarked when they were through. He folded the letter and looked at Ron.

"That," Ron asked, face showing repulsion, "I took one look at it, saw his handwriting, and chucked it." Neville suddenly shot up and stormed over to the Weasley boy. He slammed the paper into Ron's chest.

"Get over yourself and read it," he demanded, snarling. Neville then left the room. Ron held the note to his chest, mouth agape, and stared at the two best friends helplessly. They had no condolences or explanation, and wouldn't have given them to him if they had.

Harry did not sleep in his room that night. In fact, no one knew where he had gone. The preceding day, Hermione observed that their friends were much more subdued, almost mournful. She did not let it consume her thoughts, however, because something else already was. It had been three days since their spat and she was only becoming more broken over the fact that Harry was still aloof with her. Consequently, _he _planned on talking to Hermione that very night. The time had arrived at long last for him to speak with the one person whose response he feared the most.

* * *

Harry sighed as he ascended the staircase. Lunch was in session but he was not very hungry. He had no idea as to how his friends were going to react to the news of his fate, and was weary of this. He had sent everyone the news the previous evening, and had to deal with Hermione thisevening. _That _was going to be painful. Harry opened the door to his room, remembering he had not returned to it for sleep the prior night-- the thought of his roommates had been too much. Coincidently enough, Seamus, Neville, and Dean were conversing in the center of the room as Harry took one step in. They stopped talking and looked at him. _Oh no…_

"Harry," Dean said. He uttered no answer. Well, it was a bit late to run out now, wasn't it? _You could, and look cowardly_. Harry lethargically closed the door most of the way, gazing at them. Had they (Dean & Seamus) been in Transfiguration? He hadn't noticed.

"We… we got your note, a-about, well… you know." Seamus told him. The four stared at each other a little longer before Harry dropped his gaze.

"I—" he murmured.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier Harry," Neville sternly pondered, "You should've talked to us sooner, about this, about Hermione—everything! We've always been on your side!" The Boy Who Lived looked immediately at Neville, incredulity striking him.

"Y-Yeah?" he croaked.

"For Merlin's sake, mate—we're your friends!" In any other situation, Harry would have probably refrained from his next gesture, or been appalled by it. But at the moment, the fact that he heartily hugged his three friends while feeling terrifically relieved seemed to be all right.

Harry stepped out of the common room and began his path to the Head Room, extremely worried. According to the Marauder's Map, that was where Hermione was and so it was there he had to go. He had spent much of the day mulling over what to say to her and had gotten nowhere. Harry had come to the conclusion that there was no way to prepare for something such as this.

He hadn't gotten but a few paces from the Fat Lady when a choked voice called his name. He turned around and saw Ginny coming towards him from the opposite direction. Dear God… did she want to talk to him? Harry was at a lost for what to say, but even if he had had words in which to reply they wouldn't have mattered. Before he knew what to think the Weasley girl had thrown herself onto him, sobbing.

"Oh goodness, Harry—I'm so sorry! Merlin, I wanted to come to you before, you and Hermione both! Right after Easter! After the attacks, I realized how _stupid _I was being, all of us! We were being petty. There are more important things, like friendship, and l-life!" she spilled earnestly, continuing to sob. Harry leisurely raised his arms and put them around her, a sad happiness commencing to grip his heart.

"Your relationship with Hermione… we took it the wrong way. It wasn't our place to be angry with you! Shock turned into something nasty, and… and now, _this_, V-Voldemort! Gosh Harry!" Ginny said. She pulled back a bit and wiped her eyes on her left sleeve.

"It's… it's not so bad, Ginny," he quietly admitted, looking down at her. He had on a half-smile and seemed to be reveling in the fact that she had apologized.

"How's Hermione taking it?" she wondered as he let her go, studying his face.

"She doesn't know yet," Harry gravely reported, "I was on my way to tell her now. I'm… I'm scared, Ginny." The Chaser was looking at him with a tragic expression.

"She needs to know. She cares about you, so much. Just… tell her," instructed Ginny in a hushed voice, "God, Harry—I'm just so sorry!"

Harry James Potter nimbly shut the door the door to his dormitory, staring anxiously at the brunette who chose to stand next to Seamus' bed. Once planted, she crossed her arms and stared right back, though with minor rage. He swallowed a lump as he nervously ran a hand through his hair.

"Well?" Hermione prompted. It had not been an easy task getting her to agree to listen to him, let alone in his room. (It had also not been easy to get his roommates to confirm that they'd be able to keep Ron out of the area for two hours, at least). For one frightening moment, Harry was afraid he had messed up so badly he had lost her.

…

_"What are you doing in here Harry?" the Head Girl asked coldly, struggling to hide her shock. She had stopped on the steps from coming back down to the first floor. He looked up at her, forlornly._

"_I have to talk to you, Hermione. Please."_

"_Oh, _now _you want to talk? Am I worthy now?"_

"_Hermione, please—I know I've been acting dumb recently, but don't—" he began to plead._

"_Don't what? Why should I let you? Tell me that! Do you know what you've put me through?"_

"_Merlin, Hermione—don't do this, please! Not now. I _have _to talk to you. I was an idiot, I know!"_

"_I want to be alone, Harry. Go away," she abruptly commanded, moving to the sofa and refusing to show anguish._

"_No! Hermione, I-I won't leave! I won't leave until you listen to me! I swear. I'll explain everything, please. I swear!"_

…

"Harry," Hermione firmly stated, "Are you going to say anything? Or were you simply lying?"

"No," he sighed, "It's just, this is… hard." The Muggleborn did not answer, waiting for him to carry on.

"It started at the end of fifth year. Well, that's when _I _found out anyway. I've only begun to tell people now, after all this time…" She furrowed her brow, a diminutive, unsure frown on her face.

"Everyone at Hogwarts knows… well, everyone I _want _to know. The Weasleys and Remus will know soon enough. Maybe the truth isn't so shocking, if you've paid attention to everything that's happened to me since first year and just connect the dots." Harry said.

"Harry… what are you going on about?" Hermione inquired, slowly unfolding her arms. Her fury was practically gone. He exhaled, rubbing his forehead.

"Remember the prophecy, and how it broke without Voldemort hearing it? Well, I heard it. Dumbledore told me. He heard if from Trelawney on the night she involuntarily foretold it. He never bothered to tell me before fifth year. Once again, he just thought I wasn't _ready_," Harry's voice had started to take on an irritated tone as he glowered at his trunk, "What I wasn't ready for was having to accept something that huge right after…after losing Sirius. So, I didn't tell anyone about the prophecy because I _still _couldn't full grasp it. I was also scared of how… how people would react. But, but it's overdue—my confession is overdue. The War is not ending by my not saying anything."

"What… what did it s-say, Harry?" she quietly wondered, a miraculous dread overcoming her. He glanced at her before closing his eyes. Sighing, Harry recited the prophecy for her, or rather muttered it.

When he was done, his eyes remained shut.

"The training sessions I told you about, they're not for _if _Voldemort comes after me, they're for _when_. They're for my final duel with him. Some of the spells are meant to… kill." Harry opened his green opticals. Hermione still stood by Seamus' four poster, but her hand covered her mouth and she wasn't looking at her boyfriend. A stream of tears made its way down her face as her right arm hugged her stomach.

"They have to be that intense, because if I don't beat him, then… _I'm _the one who—" he dully remarked.

"No," Hermione shakily said. Harry looked at her.

"No," she repeated, removing her hand, "No! Don't say it! No! You're _not _the one who has to defeat him!"

"Yes I am Hermione," he said, teeth clenched.

"No you're not!"

"Yes!"

"NO! It's not fair! Why is it always _you_! Why do you have to be the one! You're continually sacrificing something, and in this case it's your _life_!"

"You think I don't know that," Harry yelled furiously, going over the brink, "I'm perfectly aware of it, _all _of it! I've had 24 months to think about it! Voldemort has taken every normality away from me, every sense of safety! He's stolen things and people I love, and still can! The prophecy only proves he can now take my most personal possession: my _being_! But it makes sense! It makes sense that Voldemort has the power to destroy me physically! He already did so spiritually!" Hermione put her hands up to her ears and shook her head, the tears coming in stronger torrents.

"Stop it," she cried. She wanted Harry to be quiet, and to be wrong. Oh so wrong. He was talking about his possible death—his _death_! It was repulsive and made her feel sick.

"I'm the one, Hermione, whether I like it or not. And I don't. I just am," he told her in a cracked voice, advancing near her.

"No!"

"Yes," Harry took her hands away from her head and held them, looking at her tragically. She could not stop sobbing, "If I have to be the one, then I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him for everything he's put the wizarding world through, every vial thing he's done. I hate him. I have too much a desire to see him fall, and I have too much to live for to die."

"No." Hermione mouthed desperately, trying pitifully to get out of his grasp. Why did it have to be Harry? _Why_! Why her Harry? She vainly tried to convince herself that he was lying, but she knew it was the horrible truth. In a hideous way it _was _rational, did complete the disturbing circle.

"Yes," he whispered, wiping some of her (many) tears away and keeping his at bay, "He may have taken a lot from me, but I still have so much to live for. I have you, Hermione, I h-have you." The Head Girl hitched several sobs as Harry dried her face, looking miserable. The second he was complete, she flung her arms around his neck and smashed her lips against his.

It registered in Hermione's head that she and Harry had not truly kissed, or snogged, since his fight with Ron. That had been in the start of April and it was currently the second day of May. Their misery had indeed prevented the two from physically showing their affection, and had even made them forget about it on a certain level. But at the moment, Hermione felt thrice as wretched as she had the day Ron attacked Harry, and was sure that if she didn't kiss him, kiss him _now_, she would die.

Harry inhaled as Hermione initiated a deep, desperate kiss. It had been so long since they had last kissed like this, and he knew she was doing it out of grief but he did not care. He suddenly needed to feel her just as much, to let him know he wasn't alone, to know he was _alive_. Harry grabbed her waist and began to forcefully kiss her back. Hermione's hands went astray in his black hair as fresh tears started to fall down her face. She wanted it to go away and sought oblivion in this reckless snog.

Their kisses grew to be more wild and rash, and were chalk full of utter despair. Their tongues clashed against one another as he gripped the small of her back and base of her head. She closed her eyes and sobbed when he moved from her lips to her neck. Why couldn't he have peace, for once in his life? Why did he have to be the savior of the damned wizarding world! He was only seventeen! Hermione placed her hands inside his robes and under his shirt, leading him back to Seamus' bed. She felt his bare chest as Harry's hands shot to un-tuck Hermione's shirt from her skirt. She helped him by quickly removing her robes before returning to his abdomen. They fell back on the bed, with her underneath him.

Harry kissed her mouth again as she started to unbutton her shirt with unsteady hands. She was still crying, and now appeared to be doing so with more of a fervor. Hermione tugged at his shirt roughly and began to lift it up, indicating she wanted it to come off. (His robes had been discarded not long after hers). He got to the fourth button from the bottom before stopping. He lightly ran a hand over her stomach before daintily kissing her.

"Hermione," he murmured. Recognizing her actions and what had just occurred, she put an arm over her eyes and wept, a sob shaking her body. It was still there and it still wasn't fair. He had people who _needed_ him, didn't anyone understand that!  
Harry shifted from being on top of her to right by her side. He put his arms around her middle and gathered her in his embrace. Hermione sunk gladly into it and continued to cry, clinging to the one for whom she shed tears.

* * *

A/N:In voice of Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons: Longest chapter ever! Seriously! J/k! Anyway, there. Finally. Harry tells everyone about the prophecy. It's really sappy, but it should be that way, right? I didn't know how to make everyone respond, so forgive me if it's stupid or anything. But I don't really care so…. Next posting next week. One of these weeks, I have to get two chapters up but I don't know when that will be. Three weeks left of my first year in college and professors are starting to go insane, giving us crap loads of work. I hate it. 


	31. Exploding Snap in the Prefect's Lounge

A/N: So! I was forced to re-type this chapter over, and that is why I did not get it up sooner. Man! I am so pissed! But hey—these types of things always happen to me! Anyway…. Thanks to **TrUeLoVe5193** for the review. I can't believe my last chapter made you cry… wow. Erm… there are only four chapters left after this my readers—four!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 31

One by one, all of Harry's friends apologized or expressed their remorse. Parvati and Lavender were the first ones, following Ginny, and Terry Boot & Susan Bones were the last. The prophecy had hit them all harder than anticipated and left them feeling useless. However, they did promise Harry that they would stand behind him no matter what happened; their massive loyalty was not going to disappear under any circumstance. The Weasley children not in school all wrote Harry replies, basically conveying their own allegiance for him and admission that they had not been upset over the Hermione issue—merely surprised. Fred and George, in addition to their letter, actually came to see him at Hogwarts. Harry (and plenty of others) was exceptionally pleased to see them. Ginny spoke with them exclusively and explained Ron's attitude towards the Head Girl and Quidditch captain, and how it had not changed in the least bit. Revolted by his behavior, the twins exchanged limited words with him and left that day bidding Harry & Hermione goodbye, reminding him to call upon them whenever.

As for the Weasley parents, they wanted to speak to Harry in person, as did Remus. Molly's letter had been tear streaked and begged Harry to ask Dumbledore to allow him to use the Floo Network. He fulfilled Mrs. Weasley's request and went to the headmaster about the proposal three days after his heartbreaking interlude with Hermione.

"Yes Harry, of course," Dumbledore said, nodding sympathetically, "I have already spoken with Arthur, Remus, and Molly. They will be in this office tomorrow evening at seven, waiting for you." The boy nodded numbly, staring at the floor.

"You have nothing to be afraid of, Harry. They love you, just as many others do, and only want to show you their devotion.

"I… it's," he feebly began. He looked at the old wizard, "Telling everyone—it wasn't as scary as I had thought." _All except telling Hermione_. Dumbledore gave a slight smile.

"As I just said Harry, you had nothing to fear," he noted, "You are surrounded by those whom care for you."

After Neville's authoritative command, Ron had indeed sat down and read Harry's memo about the prophecy. The only thing it had accomplished was making Ron feel more torn and confused. It was a shaking idea, that of Harry having a good chance of dying and being the sole one able to stop Voldemort. The redhead had to admit to himself that he didn't like it. However, he was not about to walk up to his ex-best friend and just give in. Everyone else, all of their mutual friends—his own _family_—had offered up their remorse and apologies, but Ron could not. The memory of his pain the day he found out Harry and Hermione still burned within his brain and heart. He was still disconnected from Harry and that was not going to change, even in lue of the prophecy.

As for Hermione, she appeared to have lost something in her demeanor the day Harry told her of his future. She uttered fewer words and a dismal gleam seemed to dim her eyes. She was most always in Harry's company, and he was really the only one who could succeed in making her speak. The Head Girl had insomnia the couple of nights after he confessed his secret and spent the hours curled up, tangled in her sheets. Hermione saw this as a blessing in disguise, however, because she feared what she would dream if she did sleep. (Her suffering over Harry would only intensify with over-imagined, visual aids). All prior thoughts and concerns, including Ron, were pushed out of Hermione's head as Harry ran through her mind. Only Harry. Harry and the grisly chance of him being taken away from her.

* * *

Harry made his way slowly to Dumbledore's office, eyes cast down and hands in pocket. It was seven o'clock on the dot, which meant that Remus and the Weasleys had presumably just arrived. With aversion, he had left Hermione on a couch in the common room, with a tome. Though, even with the book, Harry could see she held no desire to do anything but sit there. At least with him she had been able to sit there in his company while he held her. Harry seemed to hate being separated from her as well, especially now. It was beginning to feel like Hermione was the only person that mattered, the only one he didn't feel hopelessly alone around. 

_DA meeting tomorrow, _he reminded himself, walking up stairs, _Quidditch practice too. Session with Higgins tonight, a short one—only an hour_. Harry sighed, choosing to focus on Quidditch. Gryffindor's game against Ravenclaw was very near at hand, and vital. Both teams were tied for points, so whichever House won the match would play Slytherin in the Quidditch Final. (The snakes had already secured their spot, having won one game more than the other Houses). It was the most anticipated game to date, but did not exceed the Final's expected splendor. Bert Riley was still around, often popping up to happily talk to Harry whenever he was on the pitch. Apparently he would announce the League's picks after the Final, and was convinced Gryffindor would make it and then take it.

"With your brilliant captainship, how can your House _not _take it," Riley grinned, "I don't want to give anything away, Harry—can I call you Harry, Mr. Potter?—but you need not worry about the Quidditch League at _all_, eh?"

Harry stopped walking, having come to the gargoyle. _I wonder what Remus' advice would be about the Auror, Quidditch thing_, he somberly thought, staring at the structure. Well he could go find out, could he not? Harry opened his mouth to recite the password but the gargoyle came to life on its own and jumped aside. Dumbledore descended his staircase, his beard long and white.

"Ah, Harry," he said, giving a mild smile, "They are waiting for you."

"You're… not staying?" the boy pondered.

"Oh no. I wouldn't dare to intrude. They wanted to see you, not me." The headmaster moved out of the way, allowing him space. Harry looked at him one last time before exhaling and beginning the climb. In his head he could already hear the cries of Mrs. Weasley.

When Harry walked into the office, he saw that the two men were standing while Molly sat in the chair facing the desk. Remus' hands were pocketed and all three looked wretched.

"Erm…" he quietly stated. Their heads all shot instantly in his direction. He gave a weak, awkward smile.

"Oh, Harry dear!" the plump witch wailed, standing and tears welling up.

"Hi." They watched him anxiously as he walked carefully over to them. Remus took his hands out of his pockets, looking grimly zealous. Arthur appeared much the same.

"Glad to… see, you all." Harry clumsily told them. The next thing he knew, Mrs. Weasley had him in a rib cracking hug.

"It's abominable! Completely abominable," she cried, "Oh, Harry, love, if I could give _anything_ to make it not so, I would! You're so young!" He hugged her in return and patted her back a few times, and then pried himself from her clutch.

"Mrs. Weasley." Harry mumbled.

"Harry," Arthur started, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We've always said you were like our seventh son. And as far as we're concerned, you _are_. Whatever problem you have, whatever situation comes up, we care about and deal with, just like our other children."

"Thanks Mr. Weasley," he smiled gratefully. The Seeker then turned to Lupin, the last true Marauder. What was there to say? Could he say something along the lines that he'd be able to avenge the deaths of his parents and Sirius, the people whom had meant so much to both him and Remus? The ones Voldemort had taken from both wizards? Next to Hermione, Harry had been most apprehensive to tell Lupin of the prophecy.

Remus didn't allow Harry to vocalize anything; he simply embraced him, tightly. The boy closed his eyes and held on. No words were needed to communicate their emotions. Remus had come to love Harry just as much as anyone else and felt a fierce protectiveness for him, as if he owed it to Sirius, Lily, James, and himself.

"Harry, darling, how do you feel?" Molly asked when they were done with their sentimental hellos.

"Okay, Mrs. Weasley," he replied, "I've known about it for two years, so I'm all right."

"How were you able to keep it from us for so long? _Why _did you?" Arthur wondered.

"Out of fear. I was… just so petrified of telling you all, and during sixth year I didn't want to talk at all, let alone about that."

"But you had no reason to be afraid. We're here to support you, Harry."

"I know, or at least now I do. That's what Dumbledore told me," Harry muttered, "But… would it have made a difference? If I would've told you when I had found out?"

"Perhaps not." Remus responded, arms folded.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not like it can be changed…." Silence emerged for a brief period, in which Harry was weary that Mrs. Weasley would break into fresh tears.

"Hermione and Ron know?" the werewolf questioned. The Gryffindor nodded.

"All of my… friends, do. Hermione, well, she's… she's not taking it that well. And R-Ron, I wouldn't know. I'm pretty sure he knows about the prophecy, but, it's… we're still not talking." The redhead's name had come out hoarsely; it had been the first time in ages since he had said it.

"Are you telling me that he _still _hasn't approached you? Or given up on his anger? He's still acting that way?" inquired Molly, an outraged edge to her voice. Mr. Weasley was frowning broadly.

"Er… yes." The witch quickly turned to her husband, infuriated.

"Arthur! I want you to march over to your son when we're through here and talk some sense into him! This is ridiculous! Even after finding out about his best friend's fate, that boy continues to act as if—" she rambled.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry swiftly interrupted, "No, Mrs. Weasley—it's fine. Please. You don't have to intervene. I'm getting alone well enough. Don't… .say anything to him, please." Her mask of fury instantly altered into sorrow.

"Oh, but Harry, dear—" Molly remarked.

"Really. I'm all right. Hermione and I are all right. We have each other." All three adults gazed at him before letting it drop. There was a general uneasiness in their eyes, but a curiosity as well. Harry had his own curiosity that he wanted to quench, consequently; he wanted to know how they felt about his bond with his other best friend.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I don't know what… _He _told you about us, me and Hermione, but we didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. We should have told him, and everyone else sooner, but it's just that—" Harry began.

"Harry, sweetheart, it's all right," Molly softly assured, "We are _not _upset with you, or Hermione."

"No," he asked brightly, "But it seemed like—"

"We were surprised dear, that's all. Quite surprised."

"Only over the fact that you kept it from us all," clarified Arthur, "The fact that you and Hermione carry feelings for each other wasn't so astounding." Mr. Weasley smiled.

"I saw your relationship in third year. I knew it would only grow stronger, develop into something more." Remus said, smiling discretely. Harry stared at them before a passive grin made way onto his face.

"Why would we disapprove of something that brings you joy, Harry," Molly pondered, the last one to smile, "We're happy for both you and Hermione, and we never stopped caring."

Ginny watched Hermione get up from sitting on the sofa and grab her book. Harry had left not too long ago, though she didn't know where. For a moment, Ginny felt a strong urge to go and speak with the Head Girl, to console her. She knew Hermione must be going through a depressing time with accepting the prophecy—that was _visibly _obvious. On the other hand, she also knew that Hermione was probably not in the mood for company. Ginny couldn't blame her, and wasn't crushed; they had had their lengthy, emotional reunion and it had been wonderful.

As Hermione began to take her path to her room, she saw Ginny and caught her eye. The Chaser gave a small wave and smiled. Hermione gave her own tiny smile in return and went on her way. No, Ginny wouldn't talk to Hermione, but she definitely would talk to _someone_—a 6'4" someone with red hair like her own and the same freckles. She had wanted to sit her brother down and discuss certain things with him since Easter, but had not really gotten the opportunity. Though, now, she was determined to. Ginny hadn't seen Harry's roommates for awhile, so assumed they were together. Now to find out their location….

"Lavender," Ginny stated, seeking out one of their girlfriends, the only Gryffindor, "Do you know where Seamus and Ron are?"

"In the Prefect's Lounge, with Neville and Dean," she responded, completing Divination work with Parvati.

"Thanks."

"Sure, Ginny."

The Weasley daughter cautiously pulled the door open to the Prefect's Lounge, hoping no other prefects (from other Houses) were present. She had been in the room on a couple of occasions with Ron, and everytime a snake, raven, or badger prefect had occupied the vicinity they had given her an unwelcoming look, as if to say, "You're not a prefect".

"Hi Ginny!" greeted Neville.

"Er, hi, Neville," she replied, noticing the pack of Exploding Snap cards. This is what they had been doing? She then saw her brother sitting rather sullenly on a scarlet armchair. His friends had adopted a new way in dealing with him. While they gladly continued to stay in his presence, they would no longer tolerate his egregious attitude regarding Harry. Ron could hate him all he wanted, but couldn't vocally bash him. To be safe they stayed off the topic of Harry, period.

"Did you run everyone out?" Ginny questioned.

"Yes we did," Seamus proclaimed, standing on an acid green loveseat, "The Ravenclaws and a Slytherin. It's not like they could say anything though, 'cause little Dean here is a prefect!" Dean swatted his best friend's hand away, grinning.

"Well, can I run you three out? I need to talk to Ron." He looked at his sister.

"So says the girl without a badge," Dean jested, "But of course, Ginny."

"Thank you," she noted.

"See you Ron!" called Neville as the three boys left, laughing over a joke. There was silence and Ginny sat down on a banana yellow sofa.

"What is it Ginny?" Ron asked, continuing to stare at her.

"You know mum and dad planned to come here sometime this week?"

"Yes."

"To see Harry."

"Yes," he said, closing his eyes.

"To talk to him."

"Yes," snapped Ron, "Why are you bringing this up? Him up?"

"Because I want to talk about _him_!" An abrupt silence ensued in which he gawked at her.

"You're not serious," he remarked.

"As serious as a vampire bite."

"Forget it, Ginny," Ron stood up, "I'm not going to stay here and be forced into—"

"Sit _down_!" Ginny commanded, the chance of hot tears welling up very probable as she looked at him. He glared at his sister, but obeyed her.

"I can't believe you, Ron," she began, "Even after hearing about the prophecy, knowing that Harry could _die_, you _still _won't talk to him!" He said nothing, but wore an irate expression and kept his arms crossed.

"Is it that serious? Harry's _life _isn't important enough to fix your friendship!"

"What friendship," Ron exploded, "Oh, you mean those two people who posed as my friends!"

"It's time to let it go," she argued, "Why are you determined to be so angry!"

"If I recall correctly, _Ginny_, you were angry yourself with Harry and Hermione!" A moment of stillness followed this statement.

"Yes… I was," Ginny confessed quietly, ashamed, "A lot of us were. But we didn't have a right to be. We should have supported our friends, not scorned them. No wonder they were scared to tell us…. I don't even think we had real _reason _to fault them."

"I _have _my reasons," he noted, muttering, after a short interval of silence, "But… why _were _you mad at them?" Yet another period of quiet made its entry.

"I held onto the whole, 'not telling anyone' notion, and feeling deceived," she commenced, distractedly playing with her fingers, "But, that was only a part of it, and probably not even the biggest part. I… the… the piece, of me, that can't fully get over Harry… reared back up. It was jealousy." Ron gaped at her incredulously, all anger gone from his face.

"It was selfish of me, and so wrong. I have a boyfriend! It was obviously poor justification," revealed Ginny, smiling sadly, "I'm disgusted with myself now because of it. Trust me when I say it's dead now—it died when I saw how much they meant to each other. But I let it blind my judgment. Ron, I know you fancied Hermione, but it's not—"

"I _more _than fancied her Ginny! It was much deeper than that," he told her, "But it was also more than just my feelings for Hermione. It was that brutal sense of _betrayal_. My two best mates betrayed me! _I _was the one closest to them, _I _made up that third side of the triangle! No one here knows how it feels!"

"Of course not Ron, no, b-but you say betrayal. How did they betray you by a-acting on their feelings?"

"By not telling _me_!" He was on his feet and his wrath had returned full force.

"Would it have made a difference? Would you have accepted and been happy with it if they had told your first?" Ginny pondered, gazing earnestly at him. Ron looked at her dubiously before letting out a loud, frustrated yell. He turned his back to his sister. Either he had no answer for that, or didn't like the real one.

"He gets everything, Ginny," Ron hissed through grated teeth, "He gets Invisibility Cloaks, new broomsticks, recognition, preference, loads of Galleons, fame, leeway, attention, girls—he has enough! Does he need _this _girl?" He whipped around suddenly.

"Why does _he _have to get her? Why? It's not fair! Harry wasn't there for Hermione last year—_I _was! He wasn't there to see how distressed she was. He wasn't there to see her tears, which by the way were for _him_! He wasn't there while she cried over him!"

"Ron he wasn't there for _anyone_! It's not like he singled her out! And now we know why; he had good reason to be distant!" she insisted, standing up, "And what about all of the times _you've _deserted Hermione, over little things that simply annoyed you? There have been many and you know it!" He scoffed and waved her off, dropping back down into his seat with a disgruntled face.

"You say he gets everything. Maybe… but he doesn't ask for it. He gets everything, but he also gets to fight the darkest wizard of all time. He gets to always carry the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders. He gets to have no parents. He gets to never live a normal life!"

"You don't understand!" he growled. Once more, there was silence.

"What I understand, Ron, is that you're hating Harry for the wrong reasons. You've been tainted by your own jealousy and self-assurance… what you feel _you _deserve. You're being incredibly selfish." Ginny then left without saying anything more or waiting to hear anything else from her brother.

* * *

Harry's arm lay over his bare face. It would not be too long before midnight and he was in bed, nowhere near sleep. When he had gotten back from speaking with the Weasleys and Remus, Hermione had left her spot on the couch. She did not appear again, even after his session with Higgins, so he checked the Marauder's Map. She was safe in her dormitory so Harry decided to let her be. Something out of the ordinary had happened while all of the boys prepared for bed. Harry had turned around from (magically) making his bed comfortably messy to see Ron looking at him with a drawn brow and frown. Ron's gaze fell away almost instantly, but Harry was sure he had been studying him for some time. The incident only further bothered and irritated Harry, causing him to uncivilly pull his hangings shut. Ron was still being a git.

Harry turned on his side and closed his eyes, attempting to sleep. A mere five seconds later they flew open. Was he delirious, or did the door to their room just click shut? Oh, even if so, it didn't matter; it was probably one of his roommates leaving for one reason or another. He closed his eyes once more. Fifteen seconds later, they opened rapidly. He wasn't delirious—he just heard his curtains _rustle_. Was someone trying to get in! It definitely wasn't one of the other four—they knew better. Harry sat up and reached for his glasses. _Don't panic_, he warned himself. With clear vision, he plainly saw his drapes move again. _Okay, panic_. He knew he should have put a charm on his four-poster! As Harry moved to get his wand, a soft voice uttered a spell. He was frozen in place, arm out and heart thumping quickly. A moment later, Hermione appeared at the foot of his bed. She had her wand in hand and she was wearing pajamas. (They were very _nice _pajamas: pale blue shorts that displayed her legs and a white tank top).

"Her_mione_?" he said, thoroughly calmed and taken aback. He relaxed as she stepped out of her slippers and climbed onto his bed.

"How'd… how'd you get in?" Harry asked.

"_Alohamora _for the lock and the Disillusionment Charm to disguise myself, in case I woke your roommates," she revealed, finding a spot right next to him. He looked down at what she was wearing again, thinking of another question, before she kissed him. From the way Hermione laid her body on top of his, Harry could tell the kisses were going to be about as extreme as they had been the night he told her about the prophecy.

He let it, or rather her, go on for a couple of minutes before ceasing; he didn't want to lose control and let things take their own, wild path.

"Hermione," Harry began, heart thudding crazily in his ribcage and holding her upper arms, "W-Why are you here?"

"You don't want me here?" she inquired breathlessly, looking in his eyes.

"No! I mean, yes! No. I mean, I'm just surprised, is all." The Head Girl pulled out of his grasp and got off him, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"I can't sleep," she quietly explained, "For the past few nights I haven't been able to sleep. Ever since you… told me, about it, I haven't gotten any rest. It's always there. It's all I think about! It's driving me mad, Harry, and I can't sleep! But it doesn't matter because I'm afraid to sleep. I'm afraid of what I'll dream, I'm afraid—" Harry took her into his arms and hugged her securely. She was becoming frantic and he didn't want to see her in that state—it was scary for him.

"I don't want to be in my bed," Hermione sobbed, holding her boyfriend, "Please. Let me stay here with you, Harry. I'll be able to finally sleep, if you're here…. I won't feel alone. Please."

"Of course Hermione," he remarked, feeling subtly ecstatic; having her with him would ease his pain as well. He kissed her neck, "Of course—you can stay. I want you to." Harry let go of Hermione and cast a Silencing Charm on his four-poster, smiling slightly. She moved to get under the bedding and then waited for him, also smiling. He put his wand and glasses back on the bedside drawer and settled in next to her. They blithely kissed one another a little while more before lying down in each other's arms. Perhaps sleep would now find them.

* * *

A/N: NYUH! There. I had to move a part meant for this chapter to the next one. Anyway, chapter 32 deals a lot with Quidditch, just for your information. Couple o' things to mention…. When Harry told everyone about the prophecy, he didn't mention the Neville thing 'cause he didn't want to bring him into it. I lost track of the specific time (in the story), lol. I used to have it. It's in May sometime, and that's all you need to know :D Also, I wanna know how you guys feel about Ron. Do you think he's acting as expected, or is he going overboard? Do you sympathize or abhor him? Just interested…. 


	32. Farewell, Quidditch

A/N:Peeps head into room: Well… hello there. Wow. Just… wow. I think that's the only word that can convey my emotions. I haven't posted in about 12 years. But it's not my fault! See, I'm at home for the summer, while I wait for my sophomore year in college to begin. And as it is, we have a computer over here, but it's sort of difficult to use—I can't really explain it. But! I have sort of figured out a way to enlist it in my plan to finish the rest of my story, so… yeah. It's really a long story. So I'm finally posting! I've been dying to, by the way. It was torture. This is my fourth time typing this particular chapter, so let it be noted that I despise Farewell, Quidditch with all my soul. Thanks to **gu61, xxducksgomoo, grookill, grantsbeetle, Tyrion77, mysteriouscharm, **and **sweet-strawberry692010**. You people have no idea how sorry I am that I haven't been able to really get on Fanfiction. BTW, I appreciate your responses to my Ron question. I figured I made you guys hate him a bit….

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 32

Harry yawned as his eyelids began to flutter. Another day had dawned, and it was thankfully a Friday; the weekend had arrived. He shifted in his spot and threw his arms out, stretching them. A brief shock coursed through his system when they encountered a solid object, but it was replaced by a happy understanding seconds later. Grinning, Harry opened his eyes. Hermione's back was his first image of the day. Ah, yes—last night she had come to him begging permission to sleep with him, and he had gratefully conceded. It had been astonishing. The feeling of having Hermione right beside him, enveloped in his arms, had seemed so _right_. It had been exhilarating and sleep had come so easily. (Harry hadn't recalled falling asleep that soundly in years). And she was still here the morning after—it hadn't been a dream.

"Hermione." Harry quietly said, leaning up and touching her arm. He wasn't sure if she was conscious or not. That was answered a moment later when she turned around and faced him.

"Hi," she greeted, resting an arm on her pillow.

"Hi," he smiled. Harry leaned over and kissed her, despite his possible morning breath.

"How was your sleep?"

"Perfect," smiled Hermione.

"It's fifteen after seven."

"Oh no…. We have to go to breakfast and class," she reported, putting her hands over her eyes.

"A quick breakfast," he commented, "And your roommates are probably wondering where you are."

"You're right," she gasped, sitting up, "I'm usually up and out of the room by this time!" Harry looked at her and grinned.

"Use the Disillusionment Charm to sneak back into your bed. And, if they ask, just tell them you felt like sleeping in," he offered, one arm resting on his knee. Hermione stared at him. Did she really have to justify her actions to her roommates? Did she really have to explain to them that her need for Harry had reached an entirely new peak? Of course not… nor did she want to. If they questioned her absence, she simply wouldn't respond.

"I don't have to say a word," the Head Girl whispered, kissing him, "But I _do_ have to go. I'd better go dress… see if I can knick something to eat." He nodded, gazing at her.

"I'll go check if it's all right," he announced. Harry got out of his bed and stuck his head out of a portion of the drapes. The only other boy present was Ron. He looked up as he peered Harry's head (appear between the hangings) out of the corner of his eye. They made eye contact and stared at one another momentarily. Harry scowled at him before retreating back into his sanctuary. Ron worked up a sneer in return and grabbed his wand from his bedside drawer. He then tromped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, the last person just left." Harry reported, placing his glasses on his face. Hermione climbed out of the bed and went to find her slippers and wand.

"Here," he said, opening his trunk and riffling through it, "You can use this to get back in." He stood up and gave her the Invisibility Cloak. His eyes moved back down to her pajamas for about the hundredth time. Nothing of a physical nature had happened the previous night besides light snogging, but Harry had (guiltily) thought about it. How could he not with her wearing shorts like _that_? He hadn't really seen her in such revealing clothing and it was mind baffling.

Harry threw his curtains open and they walked towards the door.

"Do you always keep your hangings drawn?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, since He stopped talking to me." They reached the door.

"Thank you," she said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his nose.

"For what?" he smiled.

"I'll see you in Charms, if not at breakfast." The Seeker nodded. Hermione put her hand on the handle to open it, but it was hastily covered by Harry's. He apparently wanted to express something more before she departed, and he did so by pressing her body against the door with his and giving her a profound, lingering kiss.

"Bye," he murmured, looking into her brown eyes. He removed his hand. Hermione didn't reply vocally. Instead, she resolved to come back and sleep with Harry again very soon. She had meant it to happen once, but last night had soothed her beyond imagination. Being in Harry's arms, in his _bed, _had been exactly what she needed, and the thought of her own four poster was beginning to frighten her.

Hermione kissed him one last time.

"Bye," she said, opening the door and putting the Cloak on. The next moment, Harry saw the door snap shut. He put an arm against it and sighed.

The cheers from the rest of the school could be heard plainly inside the locker room on that Monday afternoon. The Gryffindor Quidditch team sat listening to its captain finishing up his lecture.

"Well, you lot know the importance of this game. If we don't beat Ravenclaw, we won't play in the Final. If we lose, the season's over. And yeah, it's Slytherin we'll be playing, but that's even more reason to want to win—so Gryffindor can take the Cup!" Harry said.

"Six years in a row," awed Ginny. He gave a small smile.

"Exactly. So, well… just—"

"Kick arse!" Matthew chirpily suggested. The others laughed (excluding the Keeper).

"Well put," Harry noted, grinning, "Let's go play, then!" Ron was the first person out of the locker room, as usual. Harry was the last one to leave and received a shock when he stepped out.

"Harry!" a voice jovially hailed. The boy jumped and looked to his left, startled. Bert Riley stood there and had his trademark grin on.

"Er, hi, Mr. Riley…" he mumbled.

"Good luck out there, though Gryffindor hardly needs it! Very imperative match, eh?"

"Yeah…"

"Should be a titillating Final… Slytherin versus Gryffindor, two mortal enemies," Riley commented, daydreaming. Harry looked at him doubtfully, "Well, don't want to hold you up! See you in the air!" The scout then ambled off to sit in the faculty section as the captain headed for the field. Riley sure was fanatical and positive about the lion House winning; it was beginning to mildly unnerve Harry.

The two teams stood in front of each other, the sunlight bounding off some of their brooms.

"Captains, shake hands," Hooch ordered. Harry's hand met the sixth year Ravenclaw's, John Fetenworth. The audience roared in anticipation, "All right! Let's have a fair, clean match you lot! Mount your brooms!" The players did as they were told and the whistle sounded. The crowd screamed cheerfully as twelve people shot into the sky.

"Good luck Harry." Rice bid, smiling and pelting up.

"_You'll _need it," he answered, smiling as well and also taking flight.

As the game started and Ernie Macmillan began commentating, Harry looked in the stands. He saw Riley sitting in between Professors Dumbledore and Snape, that grin of his plastered on his young face. Gryffindor students were jumping up and down happily, a random array of supportive posters here and there. Ravenclaw, in turn, was just as cheerful and optimistic as the lion pupils. Both Houses wanted so badly for their team to make it to the Final. Slytherin sat smugly in their portion of the bleachers, for the most part indifferent as to which House won; it would not win the Cup, so it did not matter. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, wanted Gryffindor to triumph. He was aching to compete against Harry in the Final, and then humiliate him by catching the Snitch for the Cup and his House.

Sarah made the first goal of the game and her House loudly approved.

"Clayborn! Ten to zero!" yelled the Hufflepuff. Harry scanned the area for any hint of the Snitch. (Rice was on the other side of the pitch doing the same). He doubted the ball would be out so early in, but wanted to be safe rather than sorry. He couldn't lose to Rice again….

A Ravenclaw Chaser scored, tying it up; the ravens celebrated. Harry looked at Ron to see his reaction, and the redhead appeared annoyed with himself for letting the Quaffle through. Satisfied with the Keeper's dissatisfaction of his performance, Harry flew over to Gryffindor's section. Flying overhead and pretending to hunt for the winged ball, he craftily made himself known to Hermione, winking. She smiled in an embarrassed, happy sort of way and did not respond. Her roommates giggled and nudged her, as those directly around them laughed as Harry directed his broom toward the Hufflepuffs.

Ginny had just scored when Ron saw Harry's… _disgusting, _display of heroics directed at Hermione. Most had not, but Ron had just happened to have his attention on the captain when he had done it. The Keeper's countenance screwed up with revulsion and vexation. What did Harry think this was? A _joke_? While he was over there socializing with his _girlfriend_, the rest of his team was participating in a Quidditch game, one _he _himself had insisted was serious. Well, Ron saw how it was… if Harry wanted to be a hypocrite….

Ravenclaw made their second goal, making the score 20-20. Harry slowly circled the bottom of a goalpost, eyes trained for gold. He had a troubling intuition that the Snitch was going to have one of those dull matches, in which it would take forever to appear. He spotted David hovering above the Slytherins, alert. Harry began to fly towards the rest of the players as Ravenclaw scored again.

"And Ravenclaw takes the ten point lead!" Ernie pointed out.

Harry wasn't too far from the Forbidden Forest when the ravens made another goal. Sighing to himself, he guided the Firebolt closer to his team. Colin shot by him, going to pelt a Bludger targeting Lauren. He looked at Ron; an irritated grimace occupied his face. Well, so long as he knew he was slipping up a bit…. Harry decided to go trail David, mostly out of boredom, but as he moved to do so, Ravenclaw scored once more.

"And it's now 20 to 50, ladies and gentlemen!" Ernie shouted. Gryffindor began to frown and grumble as Ravenclaw became euphoric. Riley's grin actually faded. What was going on? Harry definitely wanted to know—Ron had let _three _consecutive Quaffles in. He saw that Matthew was looking oddly at their Keeper as he drew nearer to them. Luckily, at that precise moment, Sarah scored for Gryffindor. The lions cheered, starting to perk up again. Harry turned to carry out his original plan when the announcer claimed:

"_Sixty _to thirty! Ravenclaw gets _another_!" Harry stopped abruptly. All right, something was off. Harry saw Ginny, with a Quaffle under her arm, fly to the opposite end of the field looking infuriated. He looked at Ron but before he could decipher anything, he saw Rice streaking off in the corner of his eye.

Harry rapidly tore after him, shaken. He had not been paying attention! What if Rice had too much of a lead? Gryffindor would _lose_! Harry's fear must have powered him, because he caught up to the other Seeker quickly. David, however, ceased when Harry was near.

"I didn't see it," he _smiled_, "Just wanted to see if you'd follow!" Harry gaped. He _had _to be kidding.

Harry left Rice without saying anything. He had no time for stupid tricks! He had a Keeper to worry about. Ravenclaw bumped the score from 30-60 to 30-70 as Harry crossed the pitch. He gripped the broom so hard his knuckles turned white. What was going on with Ron! The lions began complaining, but it could not be heard over the ravens' joyous yells. Harry was finally in close proximity to Ron when Ravenclaw obtained ten more points and he saw it: the redhead was _letting _the Quaffles in!

"Eighty to thirty! Wow!" Ernie remarked. Harry's mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds before he shouted for a timeout.

On the ground he stared at Ron, flabbergasted and fuming.

"We're down by _fifty_!" said Colin. Harry, however, was paying sole attention to Ron.

"You… _you_…" he stuttered.

"He's not stopping them!" Ginny savagely snapped.

"He's helping Ravenclaw win!" added Matthew. The other three gasped. Ron looked momentarily at the others before leering at Harry. He did not try to make a plea or deny it. The two ex-best friends glared at each other in silence until Hooch demanded their return. Harry was the last up, squinting at Ron with loathing.

Ron gathered from Harry's eyes during their timeout that he didn't want Ron to even _think _of purposefully letting the other team make a goal again. As if to prove a point, Ravenclaw scored within thirty seconds of Gryffindor's return. Ron sat on his broom with his arms crossed, looking pointedly at his captain as Ravenclaw went mad. _I can do this until they _win. Harry bared his teeth and closed his eyes, letting fury take over his system. Ron was out of control. He flew away from his team to keep from going off and to search for the Snitch as his House wilted.

* * *

Harry stormed into the common room in tow with the Quidditch team, with Ron leading the pack. The game had ended 10 minutes previously and much of the crowd was still out on the field celebrating. After noisily and moodily retrieving their possessions from the locker room, the Gryffindor seven had proceeded straight to their Tower, bypassing anyone and everyone. (Riley had tried to get Harry's attention but failed).

The victors of the game: Gryffindor. Ron had kept up with his will of letting Ravenclaw score freely, much to the rage of his team and elation of the other. Some of the people watching had figured out what Ron was doing, but most supposed he was merely having an off day. Harry, truly wanting to punch the Keeper, was obstinate in not letting _him _ruin their House's chance; it was embarrassing, but he would not let Ron succeed in his twisted plan. The Snitch had appeared when the score was 110-40, and Ravenclaw was sure it would face Slytherin. Both Seekers saw it instantly and raced after it, with both Houses holding their breath. Gryffindor went insane and screamed itself hoarse when Harry captured it, bringing the score to 110-190 and Gryffindor to the Quidditch Final.

While the Gryffindor students were excited beyond belief, the team was raging. It had been a narrow victory and one of their own had doubled-crossed them.

"What, the _hell_, was that?" Harry demanded, coming quickly up to the forefront of the room. He faced Ron and was completely enraged. The other five loitered randomly behind them, glaring at Ron.

"What was what?" the Keeper coolly questioned. Harry gawked at him.

"Your blunt resolve to let Ravenclaw score! You didn't bothering _Keeping_!" he yelled. These were the first words Harry had spoken to him in weeks.

"We won, didn't we? _You _saved us, like normal." Ron coldly stated, narrowing his eyes.

"No bloody thanks to you," snarled Harry, "You sabotaged us! We could have lost the chance for the Final, you twat!"

"Oh, now you care! You're taking it seriously now, aren't you capatain!"

"I've _always _taken it seriously!"

"Yeah? Even when you were _flirting _with Hermione two seconds into the game!" Harry glared at him. Ron was clinging to the whim of the Boy Who Lived being a hypocrite, but the truth was that the incident with Hermione had also reminded him of the fact that she wasn't his. She was with Harry.

Their peers had begun filling the room, spotting the unoccupied five players and commencing lively chatter. Harry did not notice, on the other hand; he continued to stare furiously at Ron. So, that was what this was truly about—Hermione.

"I see," he said, "So, because of Hermione, you decided to punish the team, all of Gryffindor."

"This isn't about her! It's about you!" Ron snapped.

"Yeah, the fact that _I'm_ dating her! You're just getting back at me! But, whatever. All I know is that if you try it again in the Final, I'll pull you out and replace without blinking an eye." Harry told him. Ron's face flushed. He opened his mouth to retort but the Seeker walked away. He barely acknowledged the students craving conversation with him and proceeded to the portrait hole, intent on finding Hermione. Ron glowered sordidly at his form before stalking off to his dormitory.

That night, Harry lay on his right side with his arms crossed and eyes screwed shut. His anger at Ron had not vitiated much throughout the day and now it was disturbing his sleep. How could he? Harry had spent much of dinner scowling at the Weasley boy. He now had perfect motive to hate Ron as much as he hated Harry. Not the tiniest speck of guilt was left. Trying to throw the match… unbe_lievable_….

Harry suddenly felt a hand on his arm and opened his eyes. He swiftly sat up and saw Hermione. From what he could make out, she was wearing those marvelous pajamas again.

"I thought I'd bring your Cloak back," she coyly said. Harry sprung into action and put another Silencing Charm on his bed, then jumped her. This time he was the one hungry for kisses, needing to temporarily forget about the Quidditch game. He laid her on her back and gave way to allowing his hands and mouth to talk to her.

"I missed you." Hermione whispered.

"You scared me. I didn't think you'd come back. I thought it was a one time thing." Harry responded.

"No. I want to sleep with you as often as possible."

"Every night," he demanded. She smiled and kissed him again.

"Harry, is something wrong? It seems like since the match, you've been… bothered," she noted. He had not told her about Ron and deduced now was a good time as any. He dived into the tale, but excluded why the ex-prefect had acted in that fashion.

"I can't believe he would do that!" the Head Girl said, voice quivering slightly.

"Yeah, he's been doing some pretty amazing things lately." Harry dryly remarked.

"And you don't know why he did it?"  
"He's still mad at me. It's apparently good enough reason." Hermione sighed, hear head resting on his chest. Would Ron ever forgive them?

"Are you tired?" she wondered.

"Yes." Harry answered.

"Then let's go to sleep."

The Quidditch Final was set for Friday, right after breakfast. Ravenclaw had accepted its defeat humbly and was gladly awaiting the game like everyone else. Slytherin was mightily pleased they were competing against Gryffindor, and frighteningly determined to beat them. The team was often together, speaking in low whispers. In class and the halls, Malfoy would throw Harry arrogant smirks, sometimes equipped with harsh words. Both captains were convicted to acquire the Cup; it was their last year and school game. Their enmity was as grand as ever.

The snake and lion students were at each other's throats yet again, as in earlier years. Fights broke out, hexes were flung, and severe practical jokes were played. Snape had taken to abusing Gryffindors again, noticeably Harry. It was only when McGonagall threatened to have no Final at all that everyone calmed down, for the most part. The effect of what Ron had done seemed to have sunk in with the boy. He wanted the Cup, badly, and had nearly abrogated that hope. He now had a riled team that was suspicious of his intentions to cope with. Not to mention, Ron might have obliterated his shot at the Quidditch League.

* * *

Harry was the first person awake in his room on Friday morning, and the first Gryffindor at breakfast. With coffee and toast, he reviewed his plays. Ron had better act like he _hadn't _lost his mind…. All of the Slytherin team ambled into the Great Hall not very long after Harry's arrival, followed by stragglers. They looked at him and laughed.

"You're wasting your time, Potter," Malfoy superciliously called, "I'm going to murder you." Harry ignored the Head Boy and secretly hoped he would attack him. Nothing like a morning duel to relieve stress.

The Great Hall was soon full of loud, rowdy students. The Gryffindor team sat together but did not say much. Harry had hammered everything into them during their last practice. In no way, shape, or form did he want to lose to Slytherin—Malfoy. They were the first ones to leave the table, amid zealous applause, and journeyed to the locker room.

Harry stood with the other six on the grass, waiting a little impatiently for the opposing team. Madam Hooch stood like a solider in the center, arms behind her back. The cheers from the audience were already uncontrollable, and chants could be heard. The Gryffindor and Slytherin sections were immersed in moving, shimmering posters. (Dean's buff Harry was up again and Luna had one devoted to King Weasley). In the locker room, Harry had reminded them that this was their last match together, his last game at Hogwarts.

"Let's just make it worthwhile, okay?"

The Slytherins finally made their way across the field, though rather lazily. Harry shook his head and looked at his team: they were set. The crowd hooted and wailed. Bert Riley sat in the booth with Ernie Macmillan, Professors Dumbledore and Sprout. He looked like a kid in the world's biggest candy store.

"All right," Hooch stated, "Let's keep this as clean and classy as possible, shall we? No dirty moves or tricks. Any fouls will be called straight away. I won't hesitate to remove someone from the game!" They glared and smirked at one another.

"Captains," she said. Harry gritted his teeth. He had _never _gotten over the displeasure of shaking Malfoy's hand. The two Seekers violently, but surreptitiously, shook hands, both trying to crush the other's fingers.

"Onto your brooms!" snapped Hooch, wise to their long hand contact. Harry's eyes remained on the blonde. Their final showdown…. Harry had to win. It would symbolize his triumph over everything the Head Boy had ever put him through. Malfoy gave him a mock smile and mouthed the word 'loser'. Hooch then blew her whistle, 14 pupils pelted into the sky, and the spectators' shouts became deafening. Harry sucked in a breath of fresh air. Well… this was it.

* * *

A/N: Like I said, I hate this chapter. By the way, Harry and Hermione have _not _have sex yet, kay? Just wanted to throw that out there. I'll try to have chapter 33 up on Saturday, or Sunday. I gotta get this whole story done by July 16th. And you all know what that glorious day signifies! I'm so excited! 


	33. New Horizons

A/N: Two chapters after this one! Oh, tear. Kay. Thanks to **nobodies nobody, SMP, **and **Stacey, **and to my faithful, old reviewers. Er… I don't have anything to say really for this author's note.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 33

The Final had been no easy task, and definitely the most nasty game Harry had ever participated in during his seven years. So, when Gryffindor won, it made the victory all the more sweeter. It caused a chain of events to take place, with one of the last being the guarantee of an all night celebration in the common room.

The score had been 60-50, Slytherin. Lauren had just made a penalty shot for a Slytherin Beater hurling his club at her head and making contact. There were not many points but the game, or war (for use of a better word), had been raging on for some time. Every single player had been hurt at least once, and physical damage was visible on all of them. Hooch had sounded her whistle so much, the point of fouls seemed inane. Macmillan's voice had gone hoarse from the excitement and commentating. Ron had, thankfully, decided to Keep once more, and had done a superb job. Harry, with a bleeding lip and torn robes, yelled various things to his teammates when he was near them. A doubled over Malfoy (Bludger to the stomach) with a small bruise on his cheek did much the same.

A black eyed Ginny had defiantly dodged four of the Slytherin fliers and put the Quaffle through a goalpost, making it 60-60, when the Snitch whizzed into view. Harry and Malfoy glanced at one another, the golden ball, then gave frenzied chase. It seemed like they were in pursuit of it for an eternity, when in reality it had only been 30 seconds. Seven years of vexation, hostility, resentment, and hate all seemed to flow out of Harry as his hand grasped the Snitch, snagging it not one foot from the grass, with the Slytherin right on his tail. The Head Boy pulled up defeated and Harry smashed into the ground, but he did not care—Gryffindor had won.

The lions lost total control. His team lost total control. Riley and numerous others lost total control. Ernie pointlessly tried to roar over the thunderous, joyous screams as people began to scramble to get to the Quidditch victors. A banged up Harry could not stop grinning as his team contently ambushed each other, yelling, smiling, laughing and crying; they had done it. As a massive mob formulated down on the field, Malfoy hung suspended in the air near the despairing serpents, looking crestfallen and infuriated at the same time. Ron was also still in the air, and solely celebrated in his elation. Well, the Cup was theirs, yet again.

After things had settled down a bit some 20 minutes later, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team had been properly awarded its trophy by the headmaster (with Ron in tow), Bert Riley came onto the pitch. Malfoy, who stood on the sidelines with his team, glared at him with a squalid look, arms crossed. Riley wore a grin larger than usual, if possible, and was positively bouncing as he spoke of Hogwarts' amazing matches, competitors, the Final, and Gryffindor. He then announced he would call the names of his Department's top choices, and all brightened. Two students were picked from each House, and all, with the exception of Lauren Chid, were seventh years. (He explained that her abilities were remarkable and she'd have a spot on a team reserved, and might consider looking into some of them).

The kids felt faint upon hearing their names as their peers proudly rooted for them, and could not believe it was really happening. Professional Quidditch! It was with much exuberance that Riley stated "Harry Potter!" as Gryffindor's other pick. He received the most applause, by far, and was dumbstruck, rooted to the spot. His team, albeit Ron, was terribly thrilled and encouraged him. Perhaps he should have foreseen it, but he hadn't; it was like being dosed in a tub of ice water. Malfoy could have broken his broom from sheer anger, and might have, but it suddenly disappeared when the scout called his name. This woke Harry up with a jolt, and his attention shot over to his rival. The blonde was smiling and his gray eyes shone with dark pleasure. Slytherin, having something to celebrate, exploded with praise. _Great, _thought Harry, eyes narrowed.

The young Irishman's parting words were to inform the chosen eight that they would receive packets from the League sometime in late June, with all of the information they would need or want. Their decisions had to be made by the end of July.

"I _do _hope you all say yes," Riley said. Then, turning back to everyone, "I've truly enjoyed my time here at Hogwarts, and hope to be back next Quidditch season!" The man whom had been with them for several weeks left to much acclaim.

The Gryffindors carried their happiness for the rest of the day, into dinner, and absolutely into the party that commenced at ten that night. The team players were stars, given much attention, and the captain was the most prominent. Countless people congratulated Harry on his accomplishment and probed as to what his Quidditch plans were. What team? Would he continue to be a Seeker? Would he enjoy a break before diving into it? He answered them as best he could. Ron was pretty much subdued after the match, but at around eight o'clock grew irritated with Harry once more (or rather his fame), and avoided being anywhere near him. The jealously began flooding back. Of course _he _was offered a position on one of Britain's Quidditch teams—he was the fabulous Harry Potter. Strangely enough, another out of place voice told him to stop being immature and just drop it….

Harry only stayed at the party for an hour, and spent most of the 60 minutes seated at a table with Hermione drinking butterbeer. (He did, of course, make time for his pleased friends). At eleven he kissed her cheek and bid her goodnight, hoping desperately that she would decide to come to his bed later. The last visit had been on Wednesday; he had spent the proceeding night alone. Harry shook off Gryffindors wanting him to stay, claiming exhaustion, and went to his empty room.

At midnight, Harry was still miraculously awake and missing his girlfriend horribly. (The party downstairs continued to rage). Just as he miserably concluded he would experience another lonely night, two warm arms circled his chest.

"I'm very proud of you," a female voice whispered in his ear. Thrilled, he turned around to face her.

"Are you?" he wondered.

"Of course. Though, you had me _terrified _when you rammed into the ground like that in the end."

"I always do that." Harry smiled, pulling her closer. His hand ran the length of her leg, igniting hormones.

"And it always terrifies me," Hermione breathed, begging to place her fingers in his hair, "I _hate _Quidditch." Nothing more was said as he covered her mouth with his, initiating a passionate kiss and causing her to sigh. Not too long after, he freed an arm and it violently, and unsuccessfully, searched behind him for his wand. Making a noise of protest into his mouth, Hermione grabbed it and placed it back on her hip. She did not say it, but Harry had nothing to worry about. She had placed the Silencing Charm on the four poster upon entrance.

At 3:30 in the morning, McGonagall came stamping into the common room, decked in a nightgown and robe, and barked that the party was over (Saturday or no Saturday), or every Gryffindor present would receive detention. While the students stalked to their rooms in a surly manner and had thoughts of continuing the celebration the next night, Harry and Hermione lay asleep. Her head was buried in his chest and his arms were wrapped protectively around her. At 3:43, when all five of the seventh year boys were back in their beds and knocked out, Harry's scar prickled. The Boy Who Lived frowned in his sleep.

* * *

Friday night marked Hermione's permanent fixture in Harry's bed. She stole into the boys' dormitory every night after that to sleep platonically with her boyfriend, by means of his Invisibility Cloak. Harry knew that if they were ever found out, it would surely lead to misinterpretations and consequences, but he did not care.

Gryffindor partied all weekend, but the week right after the Final was an extreme turn of events: intense studying. Exams were too close to contemplate, and the fifth and seventh years were in a panic. They had rather put off preparing for OWLs and NEWTs, and now had to catch up. The Gryffindors had been the most thrown off coarse since all of the recent, dramatic incidents (regarding Harry) had occurred in their House and affected them the most. Hermione had definitely stopped obsessing over NEWTs after Harry's fight with Ron, and seemingly _forgot _them after the prophecy revelation, but it all came rushing back to her.

"Of course, I had other things on my mind rather than NEWTs," she reported on Tuesday afternoon, flipping rapidly through a book and holding a quill, "More important things…"

"But NEWTs _are _important to you, Hermione." Harry assured, his own Charms book open. They sat in the common room.

"Well, yes, but… they seemed _pointless _compared to… to other…," she noted, eyes cast down and scribbling notes, "I just wish I hadn't ignored studying _completely_!" In all truth, she had put it aside for Harry and what he (they) had been going through. He realized this and felt guilt. Harry knew how hard this must be for Hermione, of all students; performing well academically was her forte!

Professors began to lose their sanity, in Harry's opinion. They gave out elaborate homework on top of extensive essays on top of more murderous homework. They claimed it was to help the pupils ready for their exams, but Harry was positive it was intended to kill them. (Thank _Merlin _Quidditch was over). On Wednesday, Flitwick passed out stacks of parchment that felt as if they weighed two pounds. Harry's hand trembled into the air as he stared at his.

"Um, sir?"

"Yes Harry?" questioned the teacher.

"What are these?" he asked.

"Why, your review guides of course."

"_All _of it?" pondered Dean.

"Yes Mr. Thomas, all of it." Flitwick agreed.

"You don't think it's a bit much!" Justin Finch-Fletchley inquired earnestly.

"I should think not. You are in a NEWT course for a reason, are you not?"

Higgins gave them a similarly weighted packet for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and McGonagall's for Transfiguration was larger.

"Are you all banding together, setting a weight requirement, and handing them out like Chocolate Frogs!" Ron testily remarked upon receiving his. Harry looked over in his direction and for a moment felt compelled to laugh. McGonagall, on the other hand, was not so amused.

"Excuse me?" she coldly asked, having stopped walking.

"What I think he's trying to say, Professor, is that we have… _a lot _of other work from our other classes as well." Susan Bones clarified. Others nodded their agreement. Hermione was looking at her guide and biting her lip, clearly deliberating.

"I understand that, Ms. Bones, but do you expect me to exempt you from Transfiguration work because of this?"

"Well, no, but…"

"You are seventh years in NEWT classes," the Head of Gryffindor told them, rather angrily, "Stop complaining. You are not first years and therefore are not receiving their amount of work. And, might I add, you are fortunate to have these guides in the first place! _Plenty _of professors would leave you to your own devices to prepare for the NEWTs." This seemed to be enough to quiet them.

"Sometimes I _shudder _to see how you will do in the real wizarding world," the animagus commented, completing passing out the parchment and looking icily at Ron. He grouchily smoothed out his paper.

Flitwick, McGonagall, and Higgins' packets combined were nothing compared to Snape's. His looked like a fourth of a textbook and felt as if it weighed as much as a newborn baby. Harry's mouth flew open when his was thrown carelessly at him. Others in Potions were leafing through it with tears in their eyes, while Malfoy was looking at it with indifference. Snape uttered not one word about it and put the instructions for the day on the board. As much as the students thought his guide was undoubtedly overwhelming and overbearing, no one expressed it. They had learned much in seven years with Severus Snape.

Dinner on Wednesday night was a weary one; all of the upper years were depressed.

"You haven't touched your food, Seamus," Lavender stated.

"I reckon if I prolong the meal, I won't have to go face my homework," he answered. Harry silently agreed with his friend. He had to do his Potions packet with Parvati after eating (they had decided to partner up) and a little of his Defense review.

Hermione was not showing up for dinner; she had opted to work through it. When Harry returned to the Tower, she was gone. The Marauder's Map told him she was in the Head Room, and he settled to bring her food from the kitchens. He promised Parvati he'd return in 15 minutes and set off to his task. The Head Girl, with parchment and books spread all around her on the table, was very grateful for the food he brought her. He left her to study without conversation and headed back to the common room.

Perhaps Harry was being selfish, but he feared that Hermione might not sleep with him that night. Indeed, by one a.m., she had yet to walk through the portrait hole. He forced himself to bed at a quarter till two and hardly had enough stamina to change. He fell asleep at roughly two a.m., only to be awaken 45 minutes later by a body slipping in next to his. He smiled groggily and rolled over.

"Didn't think… you'd come." Harry murmured, loosely ensnaring her.

"Always." Hermione claimed, already half-asleep. They kissed once, slowly, before falling asleep instantly.

…

_Harry was confused. He was on a barren, desolate field. There was only gray sky for miles and miles, and the ground was smoking slightly. Harry looked around, helplessly. He was alone and lost…_

_Suddenly, the snap of a dead twig. Harry turned to his right expectantly. Sirius stood there._

"_S-S-Sirius?" the boy croaked._

"_Harry," he simply said. He was wearing splendid, deep blue robes and was well groomed._

"_W-What… where—"_

"_You." Harry stared at his godfather._

"_M-Me? Me, what?" he questioned._

"_You. You are the one responsible for all of this." Sirius remarked._

"_All of what?"_

"_Chaos, destruction, death."_

"_W-What?" Sirius faded out._

"_Sirius!" Harry called, turning round and round frantically. Things had changed. This place was familiar… the Department of Mysteries. There. There was the dais, and the veil… and Sirius! Harry smiled until Padfoot began to fall through the veil, over and over again._

"_SIRIUS!" The son of James Potter started for the dais until another Sirius approached him from the left. Harry ceased._

"_Wh—"_

"You _are the reason for so many deaths, Harry," the ex-convict told him._

"_N-No," he insisted, "I-I—"_

"_Yes! You are! Mine, your parents, the Diggory boy, the old man, innocent Muggles, Bertha Jorkins…"_

"_No," Harry said, shaking his head._

"_You almost killed the blood traitor, Arthur Weasley, and your Mudblood girlfriend! The half-bred idiot Hagrid _will _die because of you! Many will! The Weasley boy will, your great Albus Dumbledore will! All of them," Sirius growled, eyes commencing to turn red and clenching Harry's arms, "All who know Harry Potter shall perish! All he _loves_! All who stand in the way of the Dark LORD!"_

"_NO!" he shouted, wrenching free. Sirius hissed and bared his fangs—_

…

Harry's dazzling green eyes shot open. A cold sweat covered his forehead and his chest was heaving a great deal. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he wiped the perspiration from his face. He lay motionless for a moment or two, trying to steady his heart rate. After finding it satisfactory, Harry checked his watch. 5:48 a.m. That dream…. He turned over and looked at Hermione's placid face. Sirius had accused him of… of…. _No; don't think about it_. Gryffindor's Seeker gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. _Go back to sleep_. Try as he might, Harry had a difficult time doing so.

* * *

Harry was pulled out of Charms on Thursday in order to meet with McGonagall in her office.

"She'll be discussing your career plans with you," Hermione whispered to him as he gathered his things, "I had mine yesterday during Muggle Studies. We can talk about it later. Good luck!"

Harry knocked tentatively on her door.

"Come in Potter," McGonagall replied. He did so, "Have a seat." As he sat down in front of her desk, he searched the premises for a sign of cookies. She had developed a tendency for forcing them on him beginning fifth year.

"So," she briskly began, looking at him, "Still trying to become an Auror?"

"Er… I… yes," he stupidly answered.

"Well, your marks from sixth year were very good, and you've taken, and are taking, the necessary classes. You now must simply pass your courses in which you are currently enrolled, and receive enough, exemplary NEWTs…. Any concerns that you may not pass one or more of your subjects?" Harry thought of Potions for a split second. For all of the hell Snape had given him, he had made sure to spite the professor by performing well.

"No… I'm fine," he reported.

"Good," McGonagall half-smiled, "You must fill out an application to be accepted into the Auror program, Potter."

"Application?"

"Yes. It is due on June 28th of every year. You must go to the Ministry of Magic and obtain one from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Here is an old one from 1978." She handed it to him. He accepted it, starring. It was as thick as one of his study guides. Skimming it, he saw such questions as 'What is your family history on your father's side?', 'Do you have a favorite color? Why or why not?', and 'What is your opinion of Muggles? The Dark Arts?'.

"You'll need three letters of recommendation to accompany it," she reported, "I will gladly write one for you."

"When… when do you receive an answer?" Harry asked.

"By July tenth. If you are accepted, you then go in for an interview and eventually training," He continued to stare at the 1978 application, "It is two months of ten hour days that exhaust you of everything, Potter. It is only for the committed… though, you'll be fine." He looked at her at long last.

"Your father whethered it… so did Sirius." McGonagall revealed, a small, sad smile flickering on her face. He didn't reply, but looked back down at the application. So… he had roughly a month to decide between _this_, and Quidditch… the career of his adult life.

"Is everything all right Potter?" the cat animagus pondered, sensing something was on his mind. For a moment, Harry wanted to tell her his problem and be done with it. Perhaps she could help! Instead, he responded:

"Yes. Thanks, Professor." Harry stood up, trying a vapid smile, and grabbed his bag. He pushed the application back towards her.

"You may keep it, Potter—I have others."

At dinner, and just before they were to become slaves to their review packets along with their peers, Harry and Hermione talked about their career meetings with McGonagall. Apparently, Hermione was deliberating between being a mediator for Muggles or magical creatures in the Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, or working with books somehow.

"Perhaps I could teach Arithmancy and manage my own bookstore, t-that focuses on Muggle Studies," she excitedly pointed out, "But I could still have my own shop and be a mediator as well, right?" He smiled at her unique ambition, but noticed her own uncertainty about her path.

"Well, I should have my mind made up by the time NEWTs are over…. But what about you, Harry? I suppose Professor McGonagall talked to you about Aurors?" He nodded glumly.

"The application is due on the 28th. I reckon I'll have gotten my Quidditch information a few days before that." Harry said. Hermione nodded understandingly. His destiny and passion, clashing.

"Don't worry, Harry," she consoled, putting her hand on his, "The answer will come to you."

Friday. In exactly one week, they would have their very first NEWT exam. The idea was nothing else but terrifying, so, many had opted to block it out. According to Harry's watch it was four minutes past midnight, but he did not know this. He was awake, yes, but was preoccupied in the task of deeply snogging his girlfriend. He had had a session with Emmeline Vance that night at eight and done well. The only weird thing was that his scar had buzzed anxiously for a few seconds after they had finished. He thought nothing of it and returned to the Tower, continuing his speculation of what Ron had chosen for a career. It had been with him all day, like an annoying pest.

As it was now, he was on top of Hermione, kissing her intensely. They had ceased speaking at 11:23, having been in bed for about 20 minutes, and (supposedly) went to sleep. Well, Harry did. He was roused from it, however, thirty minutes later when he felt Hermione's fingers running over the nape of his neck. Numerous minutes afterward, it had somehow led to their current, fevered snog.

Ah, perchance this was why boyfriends and girlfriends did not normally sleep with one another (under the supervision of adults). Harry moved down to her neck, coddling it four times while his hands ran over her stomach, shoving her tank top up. Hermione stifled a moan as her right leg pitched forward, and her own hands explored his back. _This _was why—it was too easy, he or she was right _there_. Lustful thoughts pushed to the back of the brain could spring forward again by feet merely touching.

_Doesn't matter_, Harry frantically thought, running a hand down her leg, _doesn't matter. I deserve it, we deserve it. Was deprived of snogs for a month or more thanks to Him. We forgot us for Him._

He made his way past her neck and started trailing kisses across her collarbone, down to her chest that wasn't covered by her shirt…. She gave an inaudible gasp, eyes beginning to flutter shut. His hand had made it to her thigh and was caressing it.

Hermione bit her lip as he went to suckle her neck once more, breathing heavily in her ear.

_What are you doing for him, _she asked herself, _Are you pleasing him? _She supposed so… he surely wasn't complaining. _Yes, but you could be doing more… what does _he _want? _An alarming wave of affection for Harry suddenly engulfed her, reminding her how much he meant to her. _Oh, I don't _know. She was _still _clueless as to what Harry's weak spot was. _One way to find out… experiment_. A second voice made its way into her head (was it hers?), dreamlike, and followed by another shocking dose of her emotions regarding him. _Find it. Give it to him. Give it all to him. God, he's so wonderful. You need him. Give him everything. Give _Harry _everything you have._

"Harry." Hermione breathed, writhing underneath him. He stopped mid-kiss and looked down at her. His eyes were clouded and it sent a jolt throughout her body when she looked into them.

"Something wrong?" he questioned, voice rather ragged.

"No," she mouthed, kissing him. She pulled away and searched his face. He was still staring at her, brow drawn a tad in confusion. It was a little while before either moved again, and it was Hermione whom did so first. Biting her bottom lip in determination and concentration, she closed her eyes and started to move very lethargically.

Hermione pivoted her body down at first, and then slowly brought it back up to Harry's level once more. Bringing her legs in closer together on either side, she slid back down and then moved up again, all the while keeping her eyes shut and scarcely breathing. _Oh God, oh God, oh God…, _she distractedly thought somewhere in the back of her mind.

It did not register in Harry's brain that he should react until about the fourth shift; up until then, he had been mightily shocked. What Hermione was doing was… well, it was down right sensual, and suggestive, if not a bit dodgy. Had she meant to do it? _Of course, you prat—she still is! _But… but… it seemed so wrong! He shouldn't… _she _shouldn't… maybe it should cease. _Don't you dare, _yelled the teenage boy within him, _it's… it's amazing and you know it. You _like _it, and you know it. Don't bother playing the good patron. Indulge yourself—she started it. _Harry's eyes closed. Oh Merlin… why did it have to feel so _good?_

With harsh breaths, to try to calm himself, Harry finally responded. Pressing his body more firmly against hers, he exerted pressure and began to move with her, in her exact, languid motion. (Something in him had screamed at him to join his girlfriend, promising it'd feel even _better_: it did). Hermione smiled faintly as she felt Harry's hips grind slowly against her own. So… was she doing something right? Oh, it felt fantastic.

Hermione's hands had burrowed themselves underneath his shirt and were groping his chest. His hands held her neck and when they came up, he would occasionally kiss it. Harry's eyes remained shut but the Head Girl's had flown open during a loud gasp drawn from her when they had begun to move more forcefully and quickly. An enormous amount of feelings, foreign and native, seemed to then be dumped on Hermione, making the other instances seem trifling. She didn't want to stop, was what she uncovered. In fact…. It wasn't until Harry let out a substantial groan that he had been holding in that she realized she was… ready. Well… she was! Hermione would have done anything for Harry, and it wasn't as if they were strangers, or had a weak relationship, and, and… and something of Harry's had just made itself known.

She stopped. He did as well, mere seconds afterwards. All right—that had been the single most splendid sensation he had felt in a long time. Why had she halted! And then it dawned on him, quickly. Merlin, _no!_… He turned as red as a brick and hastily made to detach himself, but she actually held on.

"Harry, i-it's all right! Don't go…" She was looking into his eyes with severe meaning. They were probing his, as if searching for an answer. She didn't _seem _appalled…

"You're not… not… I…" he stumbled, thoroughly embarrassed. Oh, the joys of being a male. Surely it wasn't his first, but it was with Hermione so very close, and moving in _that _manner.

"No. It's normal, and understandable. Harry," she timidly said, "I want to… I-I need to know… I, I have to tell…"

"What's wrong?" he asked, still trying to get rid of the humiliation.

"You know what you mean to me, or maybe you don't…. But, the point is, that I… I want to know if you will… if you feel that we're, we're… if _you _want to…" Hermione did not have to finish, because Harry got what she was attempting to vocalize. The first time she had stopped their snog made sense, and what they had just done made _perfect _sense. The desperate look she had given him moments earlier also made something in his mind click. Merlin… what Hermione was insinuating was enough to knock the wind out of Harry!

"You… want us to—" he remarked, in a hushed, quiet voice.

"Yes," she confirmed, breathing rapidly and glad to know he understood. She was gazing keenly at him again, "You… do you want to?" God, this was too much! He didn't know what to do, or say, and his head was reeling. Voices immediately erupted, all shouting their advice.

"Yes," Harry mumbled, kissing her mouth, "Yes. I do. I want to, very much. More than you know." It was the blatant truth. Hermione accepted his impassioned kisses with closed eyes. She felt like crying.

"But… I-I can't. I-I won't let myself, Hermione," he reported. She opened her eyes and they were lined with tears, "It's not fair. I-I don't want to throw anything away because of a heated, sudden impulse. I don't want to pressure you into anything. I… I don't want to take advantage of you."

There was silence for a small interval. (He was still lying on top of her). He was willing to bet that most every other male teenager in existence would have pummeled him for turning down his girlfriend's offer, one of such magnitude!

"I offered, Harry—you're not pressuring or taking advantage of me," Hermione softly revealed, finding his hand and taking it, "If I didn't want to, or wasn't ready, then I wouldn't have said anything. Trust me. I just… I just want you to know that I want _you _to have it. I want you to be my first." He nodded, and once started couldn't seem to desist. It was just so overwhelming!

"So do I," Harry told her, settling his mouth on her throat, "Just you. When we get out of Hogwarts, when we leave school… the first night we're on our own, the first night out of this castle."

"Yes," the Head Girl whispered, nodding her head. He began kissing her neck again as she fought back tears. Hermione didn't know why exactly she was suddenly so emotional… it didn't really have anything to do with his answer. Perhaps she had realized just how serious their relationship was at that instance. She had reached the point at which she was willing, and _ready_, to lose her virginity to Harry. That was monumental! But it didn't necessarily stop her from being totally afraid, because it _was _a huge step, and she was afraid. Though, Hermione found irony and truth in knowing that she was both certain of her wants and scared.

Harry was virtually in the same boat. As he kissed her neck one last time before holding her (and eventually falling asleep), he recognized that he had meant every word he had said. He did want to go to that next level with Hermione—his hormones were making _that _painfully obvious. However, he was also trepid. Would he know what to do? Knowing they had come to this stage in their lives was mind blowing. They had finally discussed it, and would soon have to do something about it. Another thing had come out of their jaunt, something Hermione had been searching for: Harry's weak spot. It seemed she had finally found it. Harry and Hermione fell asleep at 12:32.

* * *

A/N: Does anyone know Flitwick's first name? Has JK Rowling ever mentioned it! I need to know! It's vital. There was something else I had to say… oh. Hermione doesn't hate Quidditch-- she just said that cause Harry always endangers himself. 


	34. The Apocalypse I

A/N: Hello fellow Harry Potter fanatics, specifically my reviewers and, most important of all, Harry & Hermione shippers. It's been about 1.5 months since I've last posted for Lock and Key. I was supposed to get the last two chapters up _before _July 16th (that conflicted date within my heart), but due to various shite, I did not. As it now stands, chapter 34 is finished as is 35. This was the case 1.5 months ago as well, but after reading the Half Blood Prince, my world fell apart. Why?

Because JK Rowling nearly destroyed my, _our_, dream! I am speaking, of course, about the whole Harry, Ron, Hermione love triangle thing. Not only was I devastated to see Hermione lean towards Ron, I got another kick in the groin when Harry went out with _Ginny_! If anyone has viewed my profile, then it is known that my two most _hated_ ships are those of H/R and H/G. I could not believe what in God's name I was reading. It was… surreal. (Yes, to know Severus killed Albus and was the HB Prince was shocking, but it was _nothing _compared to this debacle).

I was so upset that I gave up hope. I didn't even want to finish this story. However, now I've gotten over it and regained my faith in H/H. I really can't, or won't, give up on it, no matter what happens. I love those two together and will always. Besides, who's to say Hermione and Harry won't end up together later down the line? (There's always the future, right)? I still love JKR and respect what she's written (it's HP man!), but I still have my illusions and won't give them up. Harry and Hermione forever!

So, with that said, here are the last two chapters of my story. I worked too damn hard to just give up on it, and had this written before HP 6 came out. I _need_ to finish this story! If certain things bother you, such as Dumbledore still being alive, just try to overlook it, 'cause this is my version. Lol. Ooh! Thanks to all of the new reviewers I got. You people rock my socks _and _pants.

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 34

…

_Harry could hear his heart in his ears. He was in a poorly lit room—actually, _dungeon. _Very high above the floor was a single, small bell-shaped window, through which moonlight poured. Chains that hung from pegs were hanging limply from the walls. The sound of dripping water began to penetrate Harry's skull. Maybe he was in a tower, not a dungeon…. He turned slowly around and saw a bell-shaped door at the far end of the room glowing slightly, but with a dark light. _Get out of here Harry, _he told himself, _something is not right.

_Indeed, the barren room was eerie. Once again, Harry had no idea where he was. _Does it matter? Get out! _He took two hurried steps towards the door, not knowing where it'd lead him but assuming it was better than _this _place, before someone asked him:_

"_Leaving so soon?" Harry froze. The voice was like ice; it made the hair stand up on his body, and felt as if it were the perfect vessel of unabashed evil. He _knew _that voice, hated, and feared it. _

"_I was rather hoping we'd be able to talk, Harry," it commented. He tried to move, not wanting anything to do with the voice, but found he could not. He was literally rooted to the spot. _Oh God…

"_Don't worry, I shan't keep you long." The owner of the voice materialized out of the shadows facing Harry's front. He took slow, deliberate steps and had his arms cradling one another across his chest. He was wearing a long, black cloak with the hood up, and a smile appeared in the darkness. Then, the red eyes. Harry stared at Voldemort, terrified._

"_W-Where am I?" he questioned._

"_It does not matter. What does, is that we are face to face, finally. I have not seen you in person for two years, Harry Potter, two. That is the longest time since our first meeting when you but a mere first year. Ah… but I am forgetting your third year, aren't I? How inconsiderate…" Tom Riddle moved closer to the Gryffindor, continuing to smile._

"_My, how you've grown in seven years…. You are practically a man now, a healthy, confident, handsome man. And it's not only physical growth, no, but magical as well. Tell me something Potter—do you now know enough magic for even me?" Voldemort remarked. Harry stared at him, grimacing._

"_Dumbledore enlisted the help of his incompetent followers to teach you magic in your final year, advanced magic… no doubt likely meant for me. Was that it, boy? Were they preparing you?" He said nothing, but was now gazing at the Dark Lord with an emotionless expression. Voldemort's smile left. It was replaced by an angry frown. _

"_A waste," he hissed, "Your knowledge is _useless_! What chance does a wizard right out of Hogwarts have against the darkest and most powerful wizard ever born? You will fall, Boy Who _Lived_!"_

"_Funny, because you seemed to do all the falling the five other times we've faced." Harry noted. Voldemort's face turned into a mask of pure fury before it quickly vanished and, instead, took on deep irritation. The Seeker glared at him._

"_You have always been arrogant, Potter. It will be your undoing," he hollowly stated._

"_And yours will be stupidity."_

"_Do you sincerely believe you will defeat _me_! You are _weak_, half-blood," Voldemort growled, "I know more than you will ever dream of, or come, to know!"_

"_You don't know about the prophecy." Harry quietly reminded him. The heir of Slytherin blinked, and in an instant, his anger was gone._

"_Ah, yes… I do not," he admitted, in a tender voice, "Come, Harry—since you are sure of yourself, tell me of its contents." Harry glowered at his enemy. How dumb did he think Harry was? He would _never _enlighten Voldemort._

"_What did it say?"_

"_You're thicker than I once thought if you think I'm going to tell you," the boy gruffly said. Tom Riddle's visage did another rapid, spectacular change of emotions. This time it displayed immense rage and hatred._

"_Vile scum of a Mudblood's womb," he roared, eyes becoming even scarier, "If I cannot have it by will, I will take it by force!" Harry's head flew back fiercely and he screamed. Voldemort was inside his head and ransacking his memories. The first train ride on the Express, his first true Christmas, Quirrell's turban… _no, no—get out… _finding out about the Marauders, saving Sirius from the dementors, the second task… _leave me alone!... _the Department of Mysteries, shouting at Ron & Hermione in the common room during sixth year… _NO… _fighting with Ron, kissing Hermione—_

"_I said NO!" Harry yelled, trying vainly to move. Voldemort's body jolted; he had been pushed back inside of it. He composed himself as Harry panted._

"_Very well, _Harry_. You wish to keep it secret." Voldemort quietly pointed out, folding his arms once more. He had a sick smile on his face. This made Harry nervous, so he glowered at the wizard._

"_I _did _unearth something else of importance, however," he smugly went on, "Your love for Ms. Granger. How could I forget about that? Why, it ruined your friendship with the son of the blood traitors! You care for her tremendously." It was silent for a few moments, in which they looked at each other._

"_She will suffer." Voldemort plainly told him. Then, a high-pitched, torturous scream erupted all around them, conveying terror. Harry's heart stopped. He recognized it—it was Hermione. He had to move, had to get to the door, had to help her!_

"_Hermione!" he shouted, struggling against his bonds. He needed to get out! She was in danger._

_Another of her screams resounded again._

"_Hermione!" Harry was moving desperately. Voldemort gave a small chuckle, eyes shining with despicable pleasure. His gaze bore deep into the boy's twisting head; he really did not want to look at the wicked sorcerer._

"_Yes, she will most definitely suffer for your insubordination, and then die," he revealed._

"_Don't you touch her!" the seventeen year old demanded._

"_In fact, _hundreds _will, and very soon Harry. Do you hear me," Although he did not wish to look at Voldemort, Harry suddenly found it impossible. The Dark Lord was speaking in a low, threatening, and captive voice and would not let his staring waver, "Our time to meet is approaching rapidly. The Boy Who _Lived _will face the greatest wizard in existence and be defeated, for all to see. Hundreds of others will also die in the process, those whom so foolishly stayed on his side. Are you listening to me, Harry Potter? I will _crush _your little world, oh, and much sooner than you can anticipate. Not a single soul will be left when I am done, when I am back in my rightful place."_

_Voldemort's red eyes seemed to be sucking Harry into their fiery depths, transporting him to a place unknown._

"_No…" he begged._

"_And don't worry—Ms. Granger will be well taken care of…."_

…

Harry shot up in his bed, his entire body slick with sweat. (It was not quite five o'clock on Sunday morning). His portion of the blankets had been thrown off, and the sheet underneath him was tangled. He was panting and there were tears in his eyes. He pushed his bangs up, and then his scar burst with pain. Crying out, he fell back on his bed into a fetal position, cradling his forehead with eyes closed. Breathing heavily through bared teeth, Harry did not hear Hermione wake next to him and then call his name.

"Harry? What's wrong? I-I heard you shout," she said. Gathering her bearings, she looked around her. The bedding was a mess and her boyfriend was curled up in a ball. All of the grogginess seemed to suddenly evaporate.

"Harry, what's the matter," Hermione urgently questioned, moving over to him, "Harry!" She touched his arm, gently shaking him. Harry opened his eyes, continuing to breathe profoundly; the agony had at least subsided. Oh, that dream…. Only… had it actually been a dream?

"Harry?" she repeated firmly. He turned over and looked into her acutely worried eyes. For a fleeting moment, he felt like vomiting.

"Goodness, are you all right?" the Head Girl anxiously asked.

"I… suppose so. I am, now." Harry muttered, dazedly sitting up once more. What if it had been more like a… a vision?

"Was it your scar?" she inquired, scooting closer to him and placing a hand on his forehead. He nodded.

"Yeah." What Voldemort had said…

"Should you go to Professor Dumbledore? It hasn't been that bad in quite some time." Harry had not told Hermione that his scar had been overly active the entire week, and did not plan to start now. He did not want to torment her and certainly did not wish to drag Dumbledore into it. He had had troubling dreams before; it was nothing to call an emergency over. What would he say to the headmaster?

"Er, I had a dream about Voldemort, and he was desperate for the prophecy. He also warned me that we'd fight soon, and I'd die, but he gave no location, time, or any other vital factor for his plan. Should we begin our counterattack? Now that I think about it, I could have figured _that _out, and it now seems like just a fear. Wow, how stupid of me. Sorry to bother you." Now that Harry thought about it, it _was _simply that—a dream created out of fear. A vision… right. Besides, Voldemort had seemed real in others.

"No, I'm fine, Hermione. It's okay. It was short lived, nothing serious," he reported, looking at her.

"Are you sure?" she wondered.

"Yes." They gazed at one another for a few moments. The brunette sighed.

"All right," Hermione remarked, "It's… 5:02."

"Let's go back to sleep," he offered.

"Do you need a Sleeping Charm?" she pondered.

"No." Harry half-smiled.

"Wanted to make sure." Harry did not feel cold enough for his blanket so he slipped under his sheet. Hermione chose both and nestled right next to him, in the crook of his right arm.

As it turned out, he should have taken the charm. Harry could not fall asleep under any circumstance, and was still awake when Hermione stirred again at eight o'clock on Sunday morning.

* * *

Harry sat in the library, working diligently on his Potions packet. It was about three pages away from being completed and was, consequently, due that very day. But Harry was proud. He had worked until three in the morning, after returning from a training session with Flitwick, to get it done. On top of that, any spare time he had found today, Wednesday, had been devoted to Snapes' assignment. So, yes—he was very proud of his progress. Not to mention, his Charms and Defense review guides were totally finished; all he had left was Transfiguration, and that would be done in an hour.

In two days the seventh years would have their first NEWT… Merlin…. Figuring he had deserved some time to daydream, Harry did just that. He put his quill down and stretched his limbs. Harry's scar had not acted up since Sunday morning, and he hadn't had any dreams either. For this he was grateful. He did not have much longer until he would leave Hogwarts with the rest of his peers, leave and never return as a student. His only real home of seven years would be taken from him. It was clearly sad to think on this. Where would he go? Grimmauld Place most likely… so much for getting a flat with Ron….

Harry frowned. He had been looking forward to living with Ron post-school. But that idea had been hatched back in a world when the redhead had still spoken to him, _liked _him. Would they really leave without saying a word to one another? Just… go their separate ways? _I guess so, _Harry bitterly concluded. He ceased thinking about Ron and, instead, focused on Hermione. She brought a smile to his face.

Hermione passed a group of anxious second years rushing in the opposite direction. They were late for their Herbology lesson. She, on the other hand, had 10 minutes to get to her Muggle Studies class. Her very first NEWT was on Friday and she, of course, was horribly aware of this. Hermione had finished all _four _of her study packets by Monday morning, and was using all of the extra time to study on her own, with her own resources. Sure, she would have loved to begin studying _much _earlier, but under the circumstances she was fairly pleased with herself. As it turned out, she planned on studying some more as soon as Melbrooks dismissed them.

Right now, however, Hermione did not think on NEWTs or class. The few minutes she possessed at the moment, before she was sucked into academics again, were used to think about Harry. Envisioning him calmed her, and made her happy. There was the concern lurking in the background, always the concern, but that wouldn't go away. Hermione expected to always worry about Harry. _Whether he lives to see 19 or 89_, an unlikely voice commented. _Stop it, _she ordered, closing her eyes, _Don't even—just _stop _it!_ She grabbed her necklace and held it. This too soothed her. Knowing that it had come from Harry, that he had given it to her…. Still cradling the orb, Hermione opened her eyes and gave a faint smile.

She had just gone up a flight of stairs, realizing that her classroom was near at hand. She waved to a fellow classmate who was getting a last minute conversation in with his Hufflepuff girlfriend. As she reached into her bag to retrieve her notes, it happened. There was a loud booming noise that echoed in the halls; it sounded as if it came from outside. Furrowing her brow, Hermione ceased her task. Had a lesson gone noticeably wrong on the grounds? The next second, the floor beneath her trembled so much it caused her to stagger.

After regaining her footing, Hermione looked wildly around at the few others in the corridors. They were equally thrown off track, frowning and muttering. What on Earth was _that_? Most all of the professors on the floor opened their doors and stepped out, looking concerned.

"What just happened?" one asked. A moment later, a siren sounded. It was deep, low, and penetrating, but a siren nonetheless. This siren had been created by the castle and was echoing all throughout it. This caused the snowball effect of hurried, loud talk amongst the students. What was happening! By the grave expressions on the teachers' faces, they knew. Hermione knew as well. She stood frozen in her spot, her face turning gray from fear, disbelief, and dread. No… no—it was impossible.

Minerva McGonagall carried three books in her arms, their combined weight ringing in at about 10 pounds. Her fourth year Transfiguration class had ended not very long ago, and she was using the break to quickly fetch a few tomes. The animagus was currently on her way back to her office, then classroom; she did not have much time until her next lecture began. As she sighed and irritably shifted the books, the stone floor under her feet shook. McGonagall stumbled. After regaining her balance, she stood and glared at nothing in particular.

"What in the name of Merlin?" she mumbled. That was when the siren sounded. At first the professor thought she was hearing things, but upon realizing she indeed was not, she blanched. The books fell to the floor.

"Oh no… _no_…" McGonagall had heard the siren only once before this, years ago, during the seventies…. Horror beginning to consume her, she ran to the nearest window.

Harry was answering the last question on a page (of Snape's review guide) when his table quivered. His quill slipped and flew across the parchment, leaving a nice ink splotch. He would have cared much more that he had just defaced a Severus Snape assignment had the library not experienced a small earthquake of sorts. Frowning immensely, Harry put his quill down and looked at Madam Pince; she appeared confused just like everyone else. Any time had hardly passed before an alarming siren went off.

"What?..." Harry mouthed, looking around. He had never heard it before and did not know what it signified. The Seeker did know, however, that he did not like it; it gave a sense of foreboding. He looked back to the librarian, only to see she had turned as white as a sheet.

Draco Malfoy had gotten out of class not very long ago, and was now in the Head Room. During the period in between, he had managed to leave his things in his common room and coax a pretty sixth year blonde to come with him. (She had been showing interest in him for about a month, and the Head Boy had finally found time for her). It took him a couple of minutes to make her relax and break her shy shell, but he had done it. Malfoy continued to kiss her profoundly and was on the brink of undoing her bra (unbeknownst to her), when the ground moved. It broke their lips apart.

"What was that?" she asked, a little frantically.

"Probably nothing," he responded quickly. He went back in to recommence their snogging. Malfoy was stopped fairly quickly however; the siren rang after a brief interval.

"Draco, what's going on?" she timidly inquired. But he wasn't looking at her. He recognized that siren. No, he hadn't heard it before, but he knew all about it. The Slytherin suddenly felt as if he were suffocating, oblivious to his girl of the moment.

It was a dream. No, that wasn't correct—it was a nightmare. McGonagall's breathing seemed to desist as she stared out of the window in fear. The siren sounding made perfect sense from her point of view. One of Hogwarts' safety measures was this said alarm; it could only be heard within the castle's walls, and it meant that the school was in danger—under attack. Gawking at the scene before her eyes, McGonagall saw indeed just that. Hooded individuals, surviving goblins, rogue elves, trolls, giants, wild hags and numerous other dark creatures stood at the gates, raising hell and striving to get inside. A few trolls and giants roared and threw themselves against the barrier. As they moved back to try again, she saw a single, hooded wizard standing in the middle of the vast mass, arms folded. The other cloaked figures attacked the gates with wands.

McGonagall's throat was absolutely dry. Her hands trembled. There was no doubt in her mind as to whom this attack was led by: Voldemort.

"Dumbledore," she whispered. She fled.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore's face bore an expression such as had never been seen by most people inside the school. It spoke of suppressed rage and determination, and it only showed itself when the old wizard meant business. (It had crawled onto Dumbledore's countenance the minute his office had shaken along with the rest of the castle). His school, his domain, his _students_, were in peril. It was unacceptable and disheartening—had the time really come?

Dumbledore prayed that it was something, or someone else. The headmaster quickly bypassed a fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class, all looking startled and rather afraid. He made eye contact with Sarai Higgins and nodded. She knew the procedure; she was leading them to the Great Hall. All of the professors knew the procedure—it had been taught to them upon their employment, even if it had been unpleasant. Dumbledore did not know how many teachers had explained to their pupils what exactly was occurring, for he did not know if _they _even knew.

As he walked by Filch's empty office, face set and want out, Minerva McGonagall came rushing up to him. Her face only confirmed his fears.

"Albus!" she cried, shaking.

"Minerva, what is it?" he firmly asked, holding her arm steady.

"Hogwarts is under attack! It's true!"

"By whom?" She shook her head and sucked in a breath, trying to regain her composure.

"V-Voldemort." McGonagall told him. He let go of her and lowered his head. So, the time had finally arrived….

"What are we going to do?" she pondered, voice quaking slightly.

"Fight," he responded gravely, sternly, "Announce to everyone to report to the Great Hall immediately. _Everyone_. The outside lessons should be inside by now. I will see to that myself. When you are finished—"

"Go to the Great Hall myself."

"Precisely." Dumbledore said. McGonagall nodded curtly and hurried off. She appeared to have become her old, resolute self. The headmaster went in the other direction, towards the dining hall.

When he walked inside the room, he saw that more than half of Hogwarts was present. The children looked confused and alarmed, but some actually appeared somewhat frightened. Cries of relief resounded when some of them spotted Dumbledore. He, on the other hand, beckoned for Professors Snape, Flitwick, Sinastra, and Trelawney. They came instantly.

"You all know what the siren signifies," he started, "Hogwarts is in serious danger. Severus, go and contact the Ministry and the Order in my office. My gargoyle has fled in order to initiate the castle's safety wards. Tell them Voldemort has waged a war against us." All of Snape's color left his face and the others gasped loudly.

"Sibyll," the old wizard continued, "Accompany him. You will meet Sarai along the way. Please, take her students and then, Severus, both of you proceed to my office. Melaine, gather the rest of the staff. Filius, if you will, come with me." They all set off to their crucial tasks. Dumbledore and the Charms teacher walked quickly through the entrance hall and out the large, oak doors. Sprout and her class was not seven feet away from them, all hurrying. Grubbly-Plank's group was closer to the lake, but on its way all the same.

"Albus," the Herbology teacher panted, eyes wide.

"The Great Hall right away, Pomona," he responded. She and her pupils ambled by rapidly.

"Filius, attend to our Care of Magical Creatures class." Dumbledore told him, walking down the steps swiftly. Flitwick yelled out a spell, and a large, blue protective dome was created around them.

"Inside, quickly," the headmaster remarked, passing the troupe.

Yes, he could hear them very well now, and see about half. Dumbledore stopped near Hagrid's hut and glared at the terrorists, flexing his fingers. The trolls' roars and goblins' shrieks were distinguishable. A few human yells could also be discerned. It was obvious they wanted in, and would break down the gates sooner than later; they would not hold much longer. Dumbledore uttered a spell, his wand trained on Hagrid's home. It glowed a faint green before returning to its normal state. A scream pierced the sky and another deafening thud was heard. The ground trembled again in its wake, as a tree in the forest caught fire from a Death Eater's wand. The end of the war, or Hogwarts, had come.

* * *

A/N: I'll put up the last chapter tomorrow! Excitement. 


	35. The Apocalypse II

A/N: Twell, here it is, the last chapter of my story. Dude; this is where it ends. I think this is the first time I've ever completed a full, major story. (I've had three, and all fell to the waste side for some reason or another). I feel so… done. I dunno. It's a cool feeling, but kinda sad.

I'm not positively sure I like my ending. I mean, it's all right, but kind of reeks of… sappiness. Well, you'll see what I mean when you get there. Oh, and I thought that Vector was a wizard, but I went on the HP Lexicon, and it said Vector is actually a witch. So, I had to change the first name when making one up….

Again, a billion thanks to you bloody brilliant people who took the time to review my story and stick with it. A golden ticket for each of you!

**Lock and Key**

Chapter 35

Dumbledore hastened back into the castle, magically closing the doors behind him and casting the same spell he had used on Hagrid's hut. He would need to see if all of the wards had been erected, but would deal with that issue soon enough….

The headmaster bustled into the Great Hall. Every person on the premises should have been inside of the room.

"Albus!" called McGonagall. She led a tier of her colleagues over to him; all appeared solemn. The children, who sat at their House tables, were on edge and did not like what was happening.

"Everyone is present Minerva?" the headmaster inquired.

"Yes. All staff members and students. The ghosts have taken their positions," she responded.

"Severus, Sarai—you informed the Ministry?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape austerely told him, "The Minister set to work immediately in dispatching every single law enforcement wizard to Hogsmeade."

"Very well. They must proceed with extreme caution."

"Sir, is it… it truly… _him_?" Professor Vector asked.

"I am afraid so, Velena." Dumbledore answered. They all shuddered in fright, changing colors.

"Hogwarts, under attack." Sprout said, silently crying.

"And we must deal with it. The gates will give at any moment, and then they will be on the grounds. I myself will go forth and meet them, but we must address the young ones first."

"They will go to the safe havens?" Hooch asked.

"Indeed," nodded Dumbledore. The safe havens of the school had only been used once before in its ancient history.

"Be ready to escort them." The staff then moved about the Hall, reassuring kids and trying to restore some calm. McGonagall, however, remained with the old wizard.

"Is it… is it time for him, A-Albus? Are you certain? A-Are you positive?" she wondered, in a cracked voice. He gave an enormous sigh.

"I, unfortunately, am rather sure, Minerva," he quietly said, "We must get Harry." Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly, and then made his way to the center of the floor.

"He is but a _child_," the Transfiguration instructor mumbled, refusing her tears.

Ron sat at Gryffindor table next to Ginny, Colin, Bethany, Dean and Seamus. They were all so apprehensive, and did not like the way things were going. It was obvious something bad was happening; no good could have come from that siren. He had been in Divination when things had gone wrong, snapping him out of his drowsy reverie and knocking the crystal ball off the table. Ron looked down the table at Harry, Hermione, Neville, Hannah, Parvati, Daniel, and Lavender. His eyes lingered on them. They looked a bit scared. Dumbledore then walked into the middle of the room and all the clamor died instantly.

"A crisis is at hand," he began, "Hogwarts is… under assault." Distressed cries rang out. Ron stiffened.

"By whom!" shouted a fifth year Slytherin.

"By an army, led by Lord Voldemort." At this, a riot ensued. People jumped out of their seats, wands at the ready. Others burst into tears. Screams and wails bounced off the wall. Yells fell deaf against the ears of those trembling and losing color. Objects were knocked over, and the need to escape increased without thought.

A few professors were ready to use a couple of incantations to silence and immobilize the students, but Dumbledore simply raised his arms and stated:

"Please! Order, if you will. I must continue." They quieted, but the pure terror inside their bodies did not crest. The toll of mobilizing against Voldemort for four years straight was suddenly apparent. He was an old man, a weary, yet strong, old man. Harry tightly held Hermione's hand and had gone snow white. His mouth was clamped shut and razor thin. The Head Girl's eyes glistened with water and her mouth was open. It couldn't be…

"The school has its own defense mechanisms—wards. I am confident in its ability to protect itself and you students. Even so, you all will be moved to Hogwarts' safe havens. Your safety is my top priority. There, you will be watched over by your professors while I tend to the threat facing the castle."

"H-How… how long will we be in wait?" a brave Ravenclaw seventh year questioned.

"I do not know, Mr. Shaw. But, rest assured, you will be out of harm's way. You will not be able to hear a thing happening above. When the danger has gone, you will be retrieved." A few noticed the headmaster did not say by whom; he made no promises of coming out of this ordeal unscathed.

"Is it r-really, You-Know-Who?" wondered a Gryffindor.

"I would not lie to you, especially about something of this degree." Dumbledore revealed. Frightened stirring began again. This was dreamlike.

"Will you be all right sir?" inquired a timid Hufflepuff. He gave a miniscule, sad smile.

"I should hope so. I will show Voldemort that I have no tolerance for his attacking this school."

A monstrous roar was then heard, no doubt belonging to a troll or giant. It was much closer than before and could only mean the gates had fallen. It was faint, but it sounded as though a riot was taking place. The frenzied, panicky tumult of before started to rise again as shrieks could be heard.

"Quickly—to the havens!" Dumbledore commanded, clapping his hands. He called out to his colleagues to aid in organizing the children and getting them out of the Great Hall.

Draco Malfoy sat as still as a statue as pupils all around him rushed to and fro. This was simply insane. Hogwarts, being assaulted by the Dark Lord… having to _hide_…. Yes, he knew all about the significance of the siren—it had been explained to him upon being made Head Boy, and what to do if it ever sounded. And yes, he had even heard tidbits about Voldemort planning something massive sometime soon from a few sources, but _this_? Hogwarts' demise? He was utterly perplexed, and even a bit… afraid?

"Mr. _Malfoy_!" someone yelled. The blonde looked up. Professor McGonagall stood across from him, looking upset and perturbed.

"You must help with getting your peers to the safe places! Surely, you remember it is one of your duties as Head Boy!" The Slytherin looked dolefully at the High Table and past it, to a door on its right: the door which the Triwizard champions had gone through. It was there that the path to the castle's shelters began.

"Malfoy! Snap out of it and come _on_!" she ordered. He rose slowly and followed her. They hastened to the Gryffindor table.

"Ms. Granger." McGonagall sorrowfully stated, gazing at her. (She was still sitting with Harry, though they were alone). The Transfiguration teacher did not need to say anything more, for the Head Girl knew what was needed of her. This didn't stop Hermione from looking fearfully at Harry and gripping his hand more securely. Standing about eight feet away, Ron watched them intently with a grimace on his face.

"Go on," Harry croaked, "I'll be fine."

"Ms. Granger," she repeated, a little more urgently. Hermione then stood up and joined the animagus and Head Boy. They took off.

"Malfoy, help Professor Sprout in leading the Slytherins and Hufflepufffs. Hermione, aid Madam Pomfrey and Professor Trelawney with your House and the Ravenclaws," McGonagall told them, "Enlist the help of the prefects if you need it!"

Harry melted into the throng of lions all heading eagerly for the High Table. They were parallel to the Ravenclaws, squeezed in together so that some of the students from both Houses were meshed with one another. To Harry, things seemed to be moving incredibly fast and incredibly slow at the exact same time. He had to be in a dream gone dreadfully array. Voldemort, trying to destroy Hogwarts…

"Harry!" several voices cried out. He looked back and saw a group of people quickly forcing its way through the fearful crowd to get to him.

"Harry, you all right mate?" questioned Dean, looking concerned.

"We lost you when Dumbledore told us all to get to the havens." Neville told him. Harry nodded, and looked at everyone. Seamus, Parvati, Padma, Lavender, Ginny, Colin, and Matthew were all there as well. And Luna was too, Luna… who stood next the closest to Ron. Ron was gazing directly at Harry, and appeared confused and upset. Harry studied him in return, clueless as to what to do or say. The others were looking at him sincerely and protectively, as if not wanting anything to disturb or bother him.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Ginny, looking around.

"Helping lead everyone to the right place," Harry reported, voice somewhat hoarse, "It's a Head duty."

"Come on, let's move," Parvati said, "Hurry up and get there." His friends enclosed all around him and followed the path. They made him feel a deal better, but something still didn't feel right…

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had just met a large cluster of Hufflepuffs & Slytherins, meaning they were in close proximity to the side chamber, when it happened. Harry could hear Hermione's calls to her fellow students and was careening for a glimpse of her when a professor grabbed his attention.

"Potter." Higgins stated, popping in between two second years to get to him. He focused his eyes upon her, but she turned and pointed out. The headmaster stood by the Gryffindor table and looked somber. Dumbledore's stare was fixed on the Boy Who Lived.

Harry felt his insides turn ice cold. He had ceased moving and his friends had moved further up, not yet having noticed.

"He w-wants me?" he murmured. She nodded sadly. It took a minute before Harry mechanically moved his heavy feet and walked over to the old wizard.

Hermione stopped mid-sentence and hand gesture. She had just seen Harry leave the mass of pupils right outside the door and was now watching him tread slowly towards Dumbledore. Her heart began to thump rapidly in her chest. Harry's group, likewise, had noticed its (second) loss of him and stopped moving, letting other restless children go before it.

"Where's Harry?" Seamus wondered.

"There!" Colin noted.

"Going to Dumbledore." Lavender remarked in a low voice. Harry took his last step and stopped in front of Dumbledore, his face tense. They stared at each other.

"Professor," he stated, his hand clutching his wand inside of his robes.

"Harry." Dumbledore replied, inclining his head. His blue eyes were full of misery and resolve.

"You… you wanted to see me, sir?" The headmaster did not answer right away. Instead, he sighed and surveyed the children all hurrying to safety. It was cruel that Harry could not be one of them, for _once _in his life….

"Harry," he grievously began, looking at him again, "I regret being the one to express this, and so _very _soon after discovering it yourself, but… but I feel it is—"

"Stop," Harry said, briefly closing his eyes, "Please." Dumbledore consented, and bowed his own head in sadness momentarily.

"You don't have to s-say any more, Professor," the Gryffindor told him in a shattered voice, "I-I know what you're going to say. Voldemort is out there. He's moving against Hogwarts. My time to fight has come."

"I could be wrong, Harry," Dumbledore responded, becoming even more woeful, "I could be terribly wrong. You could go with your classmates, your friends, and ensure your protection. Now does not have to be the moment the prophecy told of."

"I appreciate your concern, Professor, but… but it is now. I know it. I can feel it. So can you. I have to do it." Harry remarked. There was silence between them for a short while.

"Very well Harry," the old wizard muttered, eyeing him, "But you will not be alone. I will accompany you, as will many others. The Ministry sent its forces, and I presume they are extremely near the castle, if not already on the grounds." Harry nodded stiffly, exhaling quietly.

"Albus," came McGonagall's voice. She stood with Snape, Flitwick, Higgins, Sinastra, Vector and a few other teachers not very far away. The other staff, including Hooch, Grubbly-Plank, and Filch, were at the end of the lines of the few students left, pressing them to get through the door, and fast. Were they going to fight Voldemort's army as well?

"Come." Dumbledore said softly to the Boy Who Lived, commencing to lead him away to his colleagues.

Harry's friends, who had watched most of the exchange, tried to rally out. They _knew _it—they _knew _that Harry would be taken, taken to duel Voldemort. Their efforts were ceased, however, by the remaining educators; they overpowered the group and made it go on its way to the safe havens. Ron, on the other hand, managed to get away. There was no way they were going to detain him. He had finally come to all of his senses and had to see Harry, _talk _to him for at least a minute, if only to apologize. This was his _best _friend walking to his death! That got through to Ron crystal clear, and all old grudges were swept from his mind.

Consequently, the redhead was no match for Hermione. She had viewed the headmaster speaking to Harry with weary, horrified eyes. And when they proceeded to walk away, Hermione fled.

"No!" she shouted, tears beginning to form. The Head Girl abandoned her post and ran away from the side chamber.

"Ms. Granger!" cried Madam Pomfrey. Malfoy watched her go, taken aback. Was Granger mad! Hermione ignored the people she had startled and made a beeline straight for Harry. She bypassed Ron, without noticing, and reached Harry before he did.

"No," she insisted, planting herself in front of him and facing Dumbledore, "Sir, you c-can't—Harry doesn't have to, _shouldn't _h-have to—it's not fair! I k-know Hogwarts is in trouble, so, so let him go to the havens like everyone else! It doesn't matter that V-Voldemort's out there! Not _now_!" The headmaster was looking at her with a pained countenance, completely in sync with her feelings.

"Hermione, my dear…" he delicately commenced.

"No, please! No! No excuses, no reasons, no explanations! Let Harry go." The other adults were grimly uncomfortable and pitied the girl; they could not keep their gaze on Hermione.

"Hermione." Harry stated, stepping forward to pull her back and turn her around.

"You don't have to go, Harry," she said, the tears beginning to fall over, "You don't. Who says the time is now? Please—just come with me, a-and we'll go with everyone else!"

"Hermione, I can't," he murmured, not looking at her.

"Yes, you can!" At that instant Ron came into the scene, standing about a foot behind the Head Girl. He glanced at the professors, and then stared at Harry. The Boy Who Lived stared back. Initially, neither moved, but then the redhead began to move his mouth soundlessly. He needed to say something.

Noticing that Harry had become still, Hermione turned to see what the cause was: she saw Ron. She looked at him with teary eyes for a few moments before turning back to the raven haired boy.

"Harry, please—let's go." Hermione pleaded, tugging his hands. Ron's gaze dropped to her, and it was full of misery.

"Hermione, I told you, I can't," Harry commented, trying to keep his voice steady, "I can't walk away. I-I have to do something about it!"

"No you don't! Not today, not now!"

"That's the thing Hermione, it _is _now. I know it. I can just tell! I have… I have to… the prophecy…"

"Oh, God, no! Don't say it!" she ordered through clenched teeth, shutting her eyes. Harry surveyed her with desperation, wanting to comfort her but not knowing how.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore started, "You must get to the side chamber and proceed to the safe places. The door will seal itself very soon, please. Harry, I am afraid that… we, must depart as well. I am sure the Ministry and Order are here by now and must surely need our help." At the mention of this, Harry's ears picked up the commotion that was happening outside: shouts, yells, blasts, screams, roars.

"What," Hermione demanded, eyes widening, "NO—no!"

"Headmaster, sir—we are ready to go out this instance and face the Dark Lord's army." Snape announced.

"Yes," added Flitwick, "We may give, Harry, some time…" Snape's mouth twitched, as if this weren't _his _reason to face Voldemort. Harry noticed and did not care; he himself was annoyed with the Potions master for not calling Voldemort by his proper name.

"Very well; it is wise," Dumbledore nodded, "May the spirits of the Founders be with you."

All the wizards exited quickly, as Harry subdued Hermione.

"No…" she continued to say, tears not having desisted.

"Hermione, listen," Harry remarked, eyes on her, "I don't want to do this, okay? I don't. But I have to, and I will. We already talked about it, remember? We already spoke about it. Please, just try to accept it as best as you can. I k-know it's hard. Please. Go to the safe havens. I'll… I'll hold my own. I'll come back." He couldn't hide it now; his voice was absolutely broken.

She began to sob quietly. To console her, and to keep himself from crying, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was as tender and slow as their first, just as full of emotion. Harry did not care that Dumbledore and Ron could see them. To him, Hermione was the only one in the room, the only one whose opinions mattered.

"It'll be all right," he told her, when he had finished. She held onto his hands, staring into his green eyes with her own filled with water.

Harry looked up at Ron. An immediate understanding seemed to flow between them, forging a path of forgiveness.

"Ron," he said, voice thick, "You'll watch out for her, right? Make sure nothing happens… to either one of you."

"Of course I will," the Keeper guaranteed, giving a sad, trembling smile.

"Be careful."

"You too Harry, okay?" The Potter boy nodded, and slowly let go of Hermione. Dumbledore watched, not daring to say anything more until Harry did.

"No," the Head Girl cried, giving up her silent sobbing. She made an attempt to grab for Harry again, but this time Ron stepped forward and took hold of her right arm.

"Get off of me, Ron! Let go!" Hermione screamed, tears and anger falling.

"Hermione, please," begged Harry, in a cracked voice, "Please. I'll be back. I promise." He moved forward, grabbed both of her arms, kissed her for the last time, and stepped back.

"I'm ready," he shakily revealed to the headmaster. Dumbledore nodded.

"NO!" she yelled, struggling against the redhead.

"Ronald, Hermione, please—get to the havens, now," the old man advised. He and the Boy Who Lived turned and began to walk out of the Great Hall, Harry leading the way.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, continuing to try to gain her freedom. He shut his eyes and clenched his wand, squaring his shoulders as he walked out. He did not turn around.

Moments later, Ron and Hermione were the only two people left in the magnificent room. Upon realizing this, the Head Girl slowly ceased her fighting. During the stillness, the sounds of the raging war outside could be heard. Ron looked at Hermione; she was trembling. Then, without warning, she collapsed against him, crying. Ron fought to maintain his self-control and held her closely. They had no idea if they would ever see Harry again.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it—Lock and Key is done. Tear! I said I would explain the title when the story was over, so, here it is (be warned, it's cheesy): Hermione is like the key to Harry's lock, and vis versa.

Will I write another story, you ask? Perhaps a sequel? The answer to that is… :drum roll please: … yes. I will. Give me about a week until I post the first chapter. The title will be **I Never Lived**. Yeah. I didn't know whether or not I should write it, what with HP 6 and the events that took place in it, but I decided to. I can't get Harry Potter out of my system and need to write another story! So, hopefully you all enjoyed this story and will check out my next one. Until then, you Irken Invaders! Victory is mine!


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